


The Detective, the Pathologist, and the Prompt

by Writingwife83



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst and Feels, Cinderella AU, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kissing Prompts, Pregnancy, Romance, Title Challenge, teen!lock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-07-16 20:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 26,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7282828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of prompt based one shots which were previously only posted on tumblr. No particular order or theme besides that of focusing on the Detective and Pathologist that we so adore. :) (ratings might vary slightly from chapter to chapter, but an overall rating of T, just to be safe)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. With the Subtlety of a Sledgehammer

**Author's Note:**

> Title prompt fic

“That was an impressive observation, Molly,” Sherlock said with a little half smile. “It’s almost a waste hiding you away at Bart’s!”

Mary had to press her lips together and look away to avoid showing her obviously amused expression. She and John had stopped by Baker St to pick up Lizzie from Mrs. Hudson, and Molly was there assisting Sherlock with a couple experiments. John was still downstairs collecting some of Lizzie’s things while Mary popped up to say hello.

Just then, Sherlock left the room as he got a call on his mobile. Mary stepped aside after he was out of earshot and spoke to Molly under her breath. “He is so in love with you that it’s practically obscene.”

Molly looked at Mary and snorted out a little laugh. “Oh, I know,” she said casually.

Mary did a little double take. “Y-you do? I thought for sure you were about to shoot that down.”

Molly shook her head, still chuckling. “Of course not! I mean, I know him well enough that it’s pretty clear to me.”

“But he hasn’t said anything to you, has he?”

“Nope.” Molly shrugged. “I can tell he’s still sort of…fighting it. You know, like those little children who are dead tired and desperately need a nap, but they’ve still convinced themselves that sleep is the very last thing they’ll agree to!”

Mary began giggling uncontrollably at the comparison. Oh how familiar she was that scenario! And it certainly fit. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes. “Well, I hope he gives in soon!”

Molly bit her lip and smiled. “Mm, I don’t really feel like waiting.”

Mary’d brows lifted. “Oh really?”

“Absolutely,” Molly whispered as she watched Sherlock walk back into the room. She looked back at Mary and winked.

* * *

 

THE NEXT DAY

Sherlock strolled into Bart's lab. “Molly! Here to check those cultures I texted you about. Hopefully an idiot intern won’t get in my way this time.”

Molly turned from the laptop she was working at and sauntered over to him. “No, don’t worry. No interns today,” she said sweetly. “I made sure they weren’t around.”

Sherlock’s eyes became saucers as she ran a hand down his arm while she passed by. He was statue still for a brief moment, clearly unsure if she’d really just done that or if it was in his head. Molly smiled to herself as he cleared his throat and came over to the table.

“Yes, um, so anyway, those experiments…” Sherlock began nervously as he pulled his scarf off.

“Oh you mean these?” Molly asked as she took out two trays of the cultures he’d been working on. “I um, made some charts and graphs. Hope you don’t mind.” She slid some papers over on the table.

Sherlock frowned in surprise and picked them up to read. “These are…extraordinary. You tracked the progress exactly like-“

“Exactly like you would?” Molly finished with a smile as she stepped over closer to him. “I think I know how you like to do things after all these years.” She gently grasped one of the lapels on his coat, making his eyes widen again.

“Yes, you seem to…” Sherlock swallowed thickly. “Know quite a lot.”

“Mm, I do,” she said confidently. Then she jumped a bit. “Oh! I almost forgot! Before you leave today, I’ve got a couple of hands that I saved for you in the freezer downstairs.”

“Hands?” he asked incredulously, his eyes brightening.

“Yeah,” Molly said with a shrug. “Well I knew I could easily spare them in this case, and of course I thought of you right away.” She reached up and gave his cheek a little pat, which triggered another momentary buffering face on the overwhelmed man.

"You're being awfully...helpful," Sherlock said, his voice cracking a bit.

Molly gave him a playful smile. "Well I like doing nice things for you when I can...obviously."

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. "Obviously?"

"Mm, obviously," Molly repeated. "That's what you do when you..." She leaned in a little closer to him and dropped her voice lower. "Feel so deeply for someone."

Sherlock stared her down, frozen for a moment, but then he suddenly dropped the charts he'd been holding and grabbed her face...crashing his lips into hers. After Molly had a chance to catch up, there followed a minute of mutual and very intense snogging in the middle of Bart's lab. By the time they came up for air, hair was in disarray, faces were flushed, and breathing was ragged.

"Picked up on my hints, did you?" Molly gasped out with a laugh.

"Was it possible to miss them?" he asked, trying to catch his own breath as he gazed at her adoringly. "It seems you had a very specific agenda today, Molly Hooper...moving me to action."

"Well," Molly said with a smirk as she tugged him back toward her lips that were already feeling lonely. "Someone had to hit you over the head with your own feelings."

 


	2. Don't Let Me Lose You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title prompt fic

"Right, well I guess you're all ready then." Molly rocked on her heels as Sherlock prepared to leave her flat. "Overall, it was a success I'd say."

"It was, yes," he agreed as he pulled his coat over his shoulders. "Rather tricky, but I believe we all managed to pull it off."

Molly nodded and smiled nervously. She was glad he was alive and safe, but the question was still on the tip of her tongue and she didn't know how to ask it. She wasn't sure she had the right to, despite the fact that he'd made it clear how much she mattered to him.

"So you'll fly…somewhere tonight?" Molly asked and then chewed her lip.

"Mm, Mycroft has arranged a private jet. He hasn't told me exactly where I'm off to, but it doesn't matter much. Once I'm far from London, I'll be making my own way. I certainly won't be checking my travel plans with him."

"So you won't be keeping in touch? With Mycroft, I mean," she hurried to add.

Sherlock shrugged. "Not unless it's truly necessary, no." He wound his scarf about his neck and picked up the small case he'd packed.

Molly jumped forward, realizing that time was rapidly running out and her fear was mounting that this was the last time she'd see him for...well, who knows how long.

"I um, I was just wondering-"

Sherlock cut her off. "I am coming back, Molly," he said in a soft but resolute voice.

"Oh," she said, barely audibly as she stared up at him. "Ok, well, that's good."

He looked down and swallowed thickly for a moment before looking at her again and speaking with a hint of hesitation. "I certainly wouldn't want to lose...London...forever."

Molly nodded. "I'm so glad to hear it. Because, I mean, London would hate to lose you as well. I don't know what...it would do without you."

Sherlock drew a deep breath. "Of course, I have no idea how long I'll be away."

"Well, London will be here when you get back." She smiled, looking up at him shyly.

He looked a little sad for a split second. "I can't help but wonder though...how different the city will be whenever I do return. Things could certainly change."

Molly hesitated. What were they really talking about? She wasn't sure now. And it made her unsure of how to answer him. Was he concerned about things changing while he was away? Exactly what sort of things?

"Um, well," she began softly. "Some things won't change, I'm sure."

Sherlock looked at her somberly and nodded, then the corner of his lips tugged upward in a half smile. "I can only hope so," he whispered, and then he gently grasped her face as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. He pulled away and gave her a bigger smile. "Goodbye, Molly, and thank you."

"Bye, Sherlock," Molly breathed out, and he was passing through the door even as she spoke the words.

Both of them were afraid of the very same things on the day they parted, for what would turn out to be two whole years...and it had nothing to do with the city of London.


	3. All Over Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title prompt fic

It had been five months, two weeks, and six days since she had really been Molly Hooper. And although Sherlock wouldn't admit it to everyone, he was certainly counting. That's how long since the accident had happened, which had left her very fortunate to be alive…but also very much in the dark about mostly every detail of her life.

Sherlock couldn't help but recognize the irony, the fact that she'd lost all knowledge of who he even was, right when he'd finally realized that there would never be another woman he wanted to share his life with. Any hopes he had just begun to build were suddenly and violently crushed when that car ran up onto the walkway near Bart's.

Molly was working her way back though, with the help of professionals and her friends. She was learning what her life had been and who she had been, and learning to embrace it anew. And not surprisingly, she did it all with the grace and bravery that was so typical for her. Nothing could shake her or make her crack. Not even her own broken mind.

There had been difficult days; painful days. But somehow, ironically, this one felt the worst. Because as Sherlock walked Molly through the halls of Bart's hospital and filled any possible quiet with stories of her many days working in these buildings, he almost felt like he was really walking with Molly Hooper…the one who had loved him.

"This is all rather mundane of course, and you'll get into the more interesting things soon enough," Sherlock rattled off as he stopped at a window and leaned on the ledge. "I'll just need clearance, perhaps from Stamford, and then we can get you into some of the areas you used to work in the most. It may just help." He was very purposefully staring out the window and not into her eyes.

Molly walked over to stand next to him and also leaned her elbows on the window. "I really do appreciate it." She peered over at him, secretly wishing he'd turn his stormy eyes toward her again. "You've been awfully helpful during all of this."

"It's…no problem," he said under his breath.

Molly reached over and laid her hand on his and she felt him jump. "Um, sorry," she hurriedly said and pulled her hand back. "I just um, I just thought…it seemed like there was, you know…something with us."

Sherlock turned to face her then. "There never was, Molly," he said in a low voice.

Molly nodded. "Mind if I ask why?" She toyed with the sleeve of her jumper.

"The reasons are probably too many to list," Sherlock said with a shrug, though he knew the biggest reason was standing right there…in a Belstaff. "Not that it matters now anyway."

"Oh," she breathed out, twisting her lips and looking down at her feet. She felt an odd sense of emptiness every time she was with him. It was like there was something missing. But why would that be if there had never been a relationship? Apparently they were just friends, so this was all they had ever had. But she just found that hard to believe. The words tumbled out before she could pull them back...

"Sherlock, I think I love you."

He frowned at her. "What? Molly, if somebody told you about the way you felt before-"

"No, I don't mean before," she said firmly. "I mean again. I mean, I think I love you again."

There was a long silence as Sherlock processed her declaration. "You don't really know me anymore," he whispered.

Molly shook her head slowly as she stared up at him. "But that's the funny thing. I feel like I do! I mean, I don't really remember particular details, but when I look at you I just…I can feel everything. I can just feel that I loved you before. And over these past months, well, I suppose it just naturally happened again," she said with a little shrug.

Sherlock looked at her, almost sadly. "How is it possible?" he whispered as he reached out to tentatively touch her cheek. As he did, his expression softened and his lips twitched up a bit. "It's as if you're forever doomed to love me, Molly Hooper."

Molly blushed and gave him a shy smile as she took a step closer and grasped his coat in order to tug him down for a kiss. As she did, she whispered something that touched Sherlock's heart especially deeply.

"I suppose it's just that...you're my type."

As they kissed by the window, now completely unaware of the people walking past them in the hallway, Sherlock finally came to feel some bit of peace. No, she wasn't the Molly Hooper that he'd known for years, with all her memories and experiences and knowledge of him. But she was still Molly Hooper...and that was enough for now.


	4. The Curious Case of Macaroni and Cheese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title prompt fic

Sherlock and four year old Lizzie Watson stared at each other, both of them making all sorts of careful deductions. Finally, the more socially skilled of the two of them spoke up.

"Are we gonna do anything?" Lizzie asked.

Sherlock shrugged. "Do I have to do anything to entertain you?"

Lizzie also shrugging. "Usually people do something when they babysit me."

Sherlock sighed. "What would you suggest?"

"Something fun," she said with a little smile.

"Mm," Sherlock hummed, not terrible motivated to come up with some sort of jolly activity.

"Molly would have done something fun," Lizzie added.

"Yes well, Molly has come down with an awful cold. So I'm afraid you got stuck with me instead!"

"Last time Molly babysat me, we had loads of fun!" she said with a grin. "We played games, and built a fort, and we ate macaroni and cheese for supper! Molly said it was her very favorite kind ever!"

"Did she?" Sherlock asked, trying to conceal his interest.

"Mmhm," Lizzie agreed. "She even said that macaroni and cheese always makes her feel better and that it's better than soup when she's sick."

"Oh?" Sherlock's interest was increasing by the moment. He cleared his throat and tried to proceed casually. "And exactly…which kind of macaroni and cheese was this?"

"It came in a box."

Sherlock leaned in. "Yeeees, but which one?"

Lizzie shrugged. "I dunno! I don't buy the food!"

Sherlock pursed his lips, thinking for a bit. Finally he got up. "Lizzie, how would you like to go to the grocery store? Perhaps our activity can be to find something special for Aunt Molly. And it may just take care of your supper as well."

"Oh yes, let's!" Lizzie said, hopping up excitedly.

* * *

 

"So," Sherlock said as he picked Lizzie up and they stared at the shelf which was lined with boxed macaroni and cheese. "Which one?"

Lizzie turned to her uncle with a sheepish expression. "Um, I dunno. I don't remember."

"Hmm." Sherlock visually scanned the shelf before setting his niece down. He moved the shopping carriage over and began picking up two of every brand and dumping it inside. "Lizzie, are you ready for an experiment this evening?"

"Yes yes!"

"Excellent!"

"But, why are you buying two of each?" Lizzie asked.

"We have to make one of all of them for you to taste test. You can have a bite of each, with a drink of water between to cleanse the palate of course. And then whichever is the right one, I'll need to have another box to make for Molly tomorrow, won't I?" Sherlock grinned down at her. "And then you will be free to take the rest of the extra boxes home with you. I'm sure your parents will be ever so pleased," he said with a note of sarcasm.

"Shouldn't you get flowers too?" Lizzie asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

He frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"Silly, you know why!" She giggled happily.

Sherlock looked at her with the very slightest hint of fear. "You are so very much like your mother…"

* * *

 

Molly woke up to the sound of someone in her kitchen, which could only mean one thing.

"Sherlock!" she called in a croaking voice. "I can't help you today, I'm still sick!"

"I realize that, Molly! Be there in a moment!"

Molly sighed in exhaustion. She really didn't think she could handle Sherlock Holmes this afternoon. It was all she could do to take care of herself. And a moment later, Molly almost began to worry that the cold had taken a terrible turn and she was now hallucinating…because Sherlock walked in with a tray of food and tea, which included a little vase of flowers.

"W-what are you doing?" Molly asked as she propped herself up and gaped at the tray that was placed on her lap.

"I believe this is your favorite, yes? Thought perhaps you could do with a bit of care today." He stood back and grinned down at her.

Molly could barely form words from the shock of it all. "I…I can't believe you did this."

"Well, I did have a bit of help. Lizzie Watson was integral in the selection of your meal."

Molly took a bite of the nice warm and gooey macaroni and cheese and she let out a groan of satisfaction. "This is just…perfect. It's just what I needed right now."

Sherlock smiled as he shocked her yet again by taking a seat on the bed. "Oh and Lizzie also told me to give you this." He leaned in and pressed his lips to her cheek, giving her a warm and leisurely kiss. Molly's eyes were huge as he pulled away.

"S-so, that was uh, a kiss from Lizzie?" Molly managed to squeak out.

Sherlock smirked as he tucked some of her slightly disheveled hair behind her ear. "Oh no…that was from me."


	5. Always the Last to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title prompt fic

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes! I will kill you!"

Sherlock jumped as his flat door had swung open. There stood his mother and Mrs. Hudson, who had been kind enough to show her up.

"H-hello, Mummy," he said hesitantly. "What an...unexpected surprise."

She marched into the flat and Mrs Hudson quickly closed the door, looking a bit too nervous to stick around. "I'll tell you what's an unexpected surprise! You are getting married?!"

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Ah yes...that. You see, it only just happened-"

"A week ago!" she thundered.

Sherlock shifted nervously in his chair. "Give or take."

"It was bad enough that you didn't tell us about Molly back when you started dating. That news, I heard a full month after the fact! But this! This is absolute disrespect! I. Am. Your. Mother!"

He sighed. "Mummy, you live almost an hour away. I don't see you and dad terribly often. There's bound to be some...lapse!"

"Unforgivable! I tell you to call, and you never call! All I want is for you to keep me informed. Is that so very much to ask?!" She flopped down on the sofa.

"No," Sherlock responded sheepishly.

"I should like the opportunity to welcome a future daughter in law into the family! But somehow, I always seem to be the last to hear all the news. How can I ever take an active roll?"

"I'm sure there will be plenty of time for you to welcome her," Sherlock tried to assure her as he got up and made for the door. "Probably not the absolute best time right now, though, seeing as she isn't here."

Mrs. Holmes huffed. "Well don't you worry. I'll make sure to find my own information from on. I can certainly see that you can't be relied upon!" She got up and gave her son a stern look on her way to the door.

Sherlock swallowed thickly as he bid his mother good afternoon. He realized that this might have been a bit...not good.

* * *

 

ONE YEAR LATER

Molly snuggled closed against Sherlock's chest on the couch. "Mm, I'm so happy right now."

"Me too," he agreed, tightening his grip around her waist. He peered down at her. "Do you need anything? Are you feeling hungry? Thirsty? Too cold? Too warm?"

"Sherlock!" Molly laughed. "I'm fine! I'm only a few weeks along, and we only just took the test a couple hours ago. I won't suddenly transform into a different person! That'll take a bit more time."

"I suppose...but I'd just like to take care of you," he whispered against her hair. "You're suddenly far more precious to me that you were before, if that's even possible."

Molly propped herself on her elbow and looked down at him with a sparkle in her eyes. "Well, if you'd really like to take care of me...I'm sure I could come up with something I need you for..." She leaned down and gave him a unquestionably hungry kiss.

Sherlock sighed into his wife's mouth and instantly responded, matching her desire. He was all too happy to fill this sort of request! They began kissing feverishly as both worked at the buttons of each other's shirts. It was all going just magically until...

They both jumped when there was a heavy knock at the door.

"Who could that be?" Molly asked, quickly working to button her shirt back up.

"Whoever it is, I'll get rid of them," Sherlock growled as he stood and went to the door. He opened it a crack and was shocked to see his parents faces staring back at him. "W-what are you doing here?" he said under his breath, not wanting Molly to know.

"Did she take the test?" his mother asked quietly.

Sherlock's eyes widened. "What? How would you-"

"Just answer the question! Did she take it, and was it positive?"

Sherlock sighed, realizing that it would only waste time if he tried playing dumb. "Yes...and yes," he said softly.

"Sherlock, who is it?" Molly asked, getting up.

"Would you please leave?!" Sherlock pleaded to his parents. "Can't we do this another time?"

His mother gave him a steely glare and gave the door a good shove, moving him out of the way. "No, we will not leave at a moment like this," she said to him, and then looked past him and at Molly. "Hello, my darling girl!" she cooed and went to give her a hug.

Molly, of course, welcomed her with open arms and in less than sixty seconds they were in the kitchen making tea.

Sherlock looked glumly at his father. "How in God's name did she know?" he whispered. "We just bought the test this morning!"

Mr. Holmes chuckled and clapped his son on the shoulder. "Sherlock, I think you should know by now that you and your brother do come by your skills for acquiring information honesty." He raised his brow and smirked. "And you certainly don't get it from me!"


	6. It Was Always You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In case it's not obvious instantly, this is a medieval setting for this title prompt fic. I also have to admit it's awfully similar to a tiny fic I submitted to Lexie's tumblr to go along with a medieval sherlolly sketch she posted. Apparently I tend to repeat myself after a while lol.

"Forgive me."

His deep voice echoed in the dark and quiet stone corridor, making Molly look at him in surprise as she unlocked the hidden door.

"Forgive you?" Molly whispered.

"I hurt you," Sherlock said, his face very serious. "I am well aware that I did, though it was not my intention."

Molly looked down in embarrassment. True, it had cut her terribly when Sherlock had refused to consider her as a possible bride. He'd been completely disinterested, and even unfeeling about the whole possible arrangement. She had realized what a fool she was to have read into their past dealings at court. He clearly didn't see her as a woman fit to be his wife. She had then put aside the one chance she believed she had to marry…and marry for love. But that didn't change her love for him. And she didn't even think twice when he asked her to help him escape unnoticed. She knew that he was right, and that he was the only one with the knowledge and wit to go take down Lord Moriarty's kingdom…from the inside.

"It was your decision to make, of course," Molly said, trying to offer a smile. "I cannot be angry at you for doing what you felt was best. Surely there are many others and-"

"There are no others," Sherlock corrected immediately.

Molly looked into his eyes and saw his sincerity, though she still didn't think his words went anywhere beyond gratitude. "Sir, you needn't explain. I told you I would help you, and I am going to do just that. Your whereabouts will be told to no one…I swear it!"

Suddenly, Sherlock grasped her hand and held it very tight against the cool armor on his chest. "I know," he said intensely. "I do not deserve it, but I know I can trust you. And I know that you ask nothing of me in return. Perhaps it is partly that which moves me to speak honestly. Last year, when I refused your father's offer of you as my wife, it was simply because I could not be troubled with a wife and family quite yet. We are, after all, in a time of war. It had nothing to do with my opinion of you, Lady Molly."

Molly's heart pounded as she clutched his hand just as tightly while he spoke. "I-I suppose that is comforting to hear. I thank you for speaking openly." She moved to push the door open again.

"I am not finished," he said, making Molly look at him again. "I need you to understand that I hope to see you again when I return."

Molly nodded. "You will, Sir, of course."

Sherlock paused and then added, "I hope to see you still…unmarried."

Moll's lips parted, though she could hardly speak as Sherlock leaned down and let out a sigh of something like relief and touched his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes and felt dizzy with the rush of emotion as he went on to say more.

"I need you, Molly," Sherlock whispered, and there was the very slightest tremor in his voice. "It has always been you, and I could not bear to be parted from you without finally speaking the words."

A tear slipped down Molly's cheek; a release of joy and also the pain of this upcoming loss. She reached up and touched his cheek. "You have always had me. And if you wish me to wait…I will wait forever." And she meant it.

Sherlock tilted his head forward, bringing their lips together in a kiss that made it especially difficult to pull himself away and actually leave. He hadn't quite anticipated this…the pain of saying goodbye and the lure of simply wanting to hold her close forever. Soon, he promised himself. Soon the kingdom would be safe and he would return to her…

The one who matters most.


	7. The Exception to the Rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title fic prompt. (Fair warning...angst ahead.)

Sherlock lifted his head from the sink and wiped his face dry, examining his now smooth skin in the mirror. He took a deep breath and softly spoke to himself aloud.

"Today is the day...God knows I've waited long enough."

Sherlock went to his bedroom, already untying his dressing gown along the way. He tossed it on the bed and selected a suit, along with a crisp silvery gray shirt. He dressed himself neatly as he went over all the things she needed to know...all the things he'd kept hidden for so long.

In hindsight, it was so clear that there was no point to all of it. What had he really gained over all these years? Loneliness, frustration, regret...that about summed it up. As he took an honest look at the passing years, he concluded that it was highly unlikely that he'd somehow managed to keep his mind sharper, his work more productive, and his life more comfortable. Sherlock was very sure that Molly Hooper would have done nothing but improve just about every aspect of his life, if he'd have let her. Those rules about sentiment and caring…they didn't apply to her.

And yet, he never lost her friendship. In truth, that was one of the things that stood out the most to him. Sherlock had always been impatient, and even tended toward selfishness. When he was faced with a person who refused to give him what he wanted, it was quite likely that such a person wouldn't remain a large part of his life for very long. Molly was so very different. She'd long ago resigned herself to getting only a fraction of what she wanted from him. And somehow she'd made herself quietly content with it. She loved him, she always had. It never faded, never faltered...only evolved, in the perfect way that true love should. She was a constant, and he never had to doubt her. She never gave him any reason to.

She made him a better man in many ways, and he knew it. Molly held him to a higher standard, often times higher than his own. And she held him accountable when he fell short, all while assuring him of her unwavering love. Sherlock never felt cut down, but she did have a way of making him feel a deep remorse that few others could inflict. The words she spoke and counsel she offered rooted themselves deep in his heart and were always remembered. Not just remembered...treasured.

Sherlock climbed into a cab about twenty minutes later and he directed the driver to Bart's hospital. His home away from him. It was still a bit strange when he arrived and took the lift to the tenth floor. He looked at some of the buttons for the lower levels, thinking that it felt like a lifetime since he'd pressed them, knowing he'd see Molly in places like the lab and the morgue.

After he got off the lift and walked down the hall, he was let in through the automated double doors by a nurse who knew him well by now. The nurse gave him one of those compassionate smiles, the kind that turned his stomach. But he put up with the sugary sweet smiles and words of comfort...for the sake of seeing her.

Sherlock didn't knock when he entered the room. He stopped doing that after quite a while, realizing there was no point. He removed his coat, hanging it on the back of the door as usual. After he'd straightened his suit and run a hand through his hair, only then did he allow himself to look over at her in the bed.

There lay Molly Hooper, the tiny tower of strength who hadn't used her own body since last spring. The woman who always told him exactly what he needed to hear, who hadn't used her voice in so very long now. The woman who always saw him...who hadn't opened her eyes in almost a year.

Sherlock crossed the room slowly and sat in the uncomfortable little chair next to her bed, scooting it over so that he was as close as possible. He cleared his throat.

He usually made small talk, despite his hatred for the custom. He'd talk about how Toby was still doing well at 221B and that he and Mrs. Hudson were great company for each other. He'd share some recent news of the Watson's and how well Lizzie was doing in school. And even the weather; the stupid and unimportant weather. Sometimes he'd talk about weightier things though, like cases, and how he'd continue to make sure that the criminals who did this to her would never again see the light of day.

Sherlock had so much he planned to say today; nothing like the usual one sided conversation. He wanted to detail all the conclusions he'd reached and all the things he'd never said and the things he wished he could do over…but something came over him as he sat there staring at her. The air left his lungs and Sherlock suddenly felt like his chest was collapsing. He looked at her, at her peaceful still form in the hospital bed, and all he could think was that there was far too much to say. No amount of grand declaration would ever make up for all the years of words unsaid.

With a heavy heart, he let his head fall gently forward to rest on her upper arm. Somehow, miraculously, she still smelled like the Molly he always knew, and that served to calm and comfort him a bit. He was still sure he would barely be able to manage one sentence spoken aloud, so he figured he'd better make it count. But in the end, he realized that all the little accompanying details didn't matter much anyway. It really all came down to the four simple words whispered among the hums and beeps of the hospital monitors.

"I love you, Molly."


	8. The Dance She Taught Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title prompt fic

Molly took a sip of her red wine as she watched the bride and groom glide across the dance floor. She reached over and laced her fingers through her husband's. "They really are such a lovely couple," she remarked with a contented smile.

"Mm," Sherlock softly agreed. "Even if they are a bit young."

Molly sighed, as it was about the fifteenth time she'd heard the comment come out of his mouth. "They're both in their early twenties. That's not all that young. And besides, some people just don't take as long to come to their senses, darling," she said, giving him an soft jab with her elbow.

"I maintain that my timing was impeccable...as always," he insisted stubbornly, but gave Molly a little wink.

She smiled back and then continued watching the couple as they danced and happily stared into each other's eyes. A moment later, Sherlock spoke again.

"It is a shame we couldn't have gotten out of this whole event."

"Sherlock!" Molly chided in a whisper. "Of course we couldn't get out of it! I mean, my goodness, it is our son!" she said with a laugh.

Sherlock shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, he seems to be doing just fine. Not as if he needs us to hold his hand anymore."

Molly suddenly felt her heart ache as she looked at the tall, handsome, grown man on the dance floor. It was so true, he really did have his own life and was so independent now. But Molly was flooded with memories of when she absolutely did have to hold his tiny hands, even having to bend down to do so. She would miss that...she always would.

Sherlock reached over and took her hand again, making her turn to look at him as she wiped at the bit of moisture from her big brown eyes. "He's not dropping off the face of the planet," he whispered. "We'll still see him often."

"Oh I know!" Molly said with a little sniffle and she put on a happy smile again. "I'm just being silly. Just...remembering."

Sherlock changed the subject as he took note of his son's dancing. "I must say he's doing rather well."

"Isn't he? I'm impressed too," Molly agreed. "Although, he didn't exactly do it on his own."

"Oh?"

Molly gave Sherlock a sneaky smile. "Well...I may have spent some time practicing with him. I mean, he did really need it. I love the boy to pieces, but we both know he didn't inherit your natural dancing ability!" she said with a little giggle.

Sherlock chuckled. "Indeed, he did not."

"I just didn't want him falling all over himself during his own wedding waltz. Would have been a shame." Molly smiled, her eyes still youthful and sparkly, despite the accompanying lines of time beside them. "I suppose it was a bit selfish as well. I have to dance with him next!" she said with a laugh. "I'd like to keep my toes intact!"

Soon after, Molly had to shush Sherlock who let out a little groan when he looked over and saw that Laura's father was already teary eyed as he watched the wedding waltz. No doubt he'd fall completely to pieces when it was time for the father daughter dance!

"I still can't believe I'm related to him," Sherlock mumbled.

"I think it's all so lovely!" Molly said with a smile at the emotional man.

He sighed softly. "Well, it's certainly final now. May as well hope for the best. Laura is a excellent woman, I have to admit. I suppose my only concern is for the children."

"Children?" Molly asked.

"Mm, William and Laura's possible future children. Make no mistake, idiocy can certainly skip a generation, Molly! We can only hope that the Hooper and Holmes genes are far more dominant."

"Oh, stop it!" she said with a giggle, knowing that Sherlock wasn't being completely serious. His opinion on Laura's father had definitely improved over time, even if he wouldn't usually admit it.

Things had come a long way from thirty years ago, and it was a good thing. Because, like it or not, they were all one big family now. Time had a way of healing and bringing things full circle. And it was all thanks to the two people who had found a real and lasting love despite the strange connection and history that their parents shared.

As the wedding waltz came to a close, the DJ took the mic and announced amidst the already applauding crowd.

"Congratulations again to the new Mr. William Holmes and Mrs. Laura Anderson-Holmes!"


	9. Midnight's Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title prompt fic

Sherlock climbed up the fire escape and jumped to reach the ladder he'd attached to the edge of the roof. He couldn't help but think that he'd need to take this down after tonight. Couldn't run the risk of anyone else using it. It was likely not many others would have the needed agility. He strolled over to the corner of the roof, his corner, and took a seat on the blanket. It was a bit chillier tonight, and his first thought was to wonder if she'd be warm enough.

Less than ten minutes later, Sherlock heard the door to the roof open. Molly came out in some sort of silly looking pink pajamas with clouds on them and fluffy kitty slippers. She smiled at him as she approached.

"I should have brought a snack tonight. That would have been fun," she said cheerily, and Sherlock wondered how she was always so smiley and happy.

"It's fine," he said with a shrug.

Molly took a seat next to him, brought her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. She sighed happily as she glanced up at the night sky. "Gosh, I bet the stars will be even brighter at night when you're back in the country!"

Sherlock didn't care much about that. He'd been in the city now for more than three years, and he had no wish to go back to the country. But school was about to start up again, and his parents insisted that he start back at a new school that was closer to their country home. It seemed to his parents that the fourteen year old Sherlock had exhausted his options for making friends here in the city, and they hoped that a change of scenery would be just the thing.

"I'm coming back to London as soon as I can," Sherlock stated firmly.

Molly turned to look at him, her eyes brightening as she examined his profile. She certainly hoped he did come back soon. The past three years had been happy ones for her. She couldn't count how many nights they spent on this rooftop, talking about everything or nothing at all. It was usually one extreme or the other with Sherlock Holmes. He would either talk so much that she could barely get a word in, or he was far too busy within his own mind to share his thoughts out loud. It felt like a lifetime to her, these three years. She still remembered finding him up here that first time and realizing that he'd been crying as he clutched something that looked like a dog's leash. She never really asked if she could keep joining him late at night when all the grown ups were asleep, she just kept coming. And after a while, he clearly came to expect it.

"That's good. I mean, I'm sure you'll miss the city," Molly said, absentmindedly slinging her brown hair over one shoulder and braiding it loosely.

"My parents tried to tell me we could get another dog in the country. I don't want another dog," he sneered, the idea being completely distasteful.

Molly cleared her throat. Not that she blamed him, but he was in a mood tonight, that was certain. She had a hard time pulling him from his sour moods sometimes, and the last thing she wanted was to spend their last night on the rooftop with him sulking.

"Want to figure out what kind of day I had?" Molly offered, knowing that this always tended to be an effective distraction for him.

Sherlock took a moment, but finally he looked over at her and shrugged slightly in tacit agreement. He shifted his body to face her and began scanning her carefully.

"It seems you got a bit of sun, perhaps since yesterday. Probably went running." He reached out and took both her delicate hands in his, examining the front and back and not noticing how Molly's cheeks instantly turned pink. "There's some bits of paint left on your hands that you missed, so it seems you were continuing your work on repainting your room." Sherlock also reached out and felt her hair a bit between his fingers. "And you washed your hair this evening, either in addition to or instead of this morning, which also confirms the running."

Molly nodded. "Nicely done."

That did the trick to distract him for a while, and Molly was able to chat about her room and how it was coming along. He wasn't terribly chatty tonight, but it seemed he was cheered a bit. After a while, silence descended on them again as Molly turned her attention back to the night sky.

She yawned as she finally spoke again. "I should probably go back downstairs soon. So…you'll leave in the morning then?"

Sherlock turned to look at her face in the moonlight. He already considered himself to be a man of science, and as such, he couldn't help but notice the fact that the little girl he'd known for the past three years…wasn't so much of a little girl anymore. She was changing. He reminded himself that he was also changing, and he thought that perhaps it was simpler if he left the city now anyway. How much longer would it be till Molly would be sitting up here on the roof with him and talking about having a boyfriend? Surely it wouldn't be long, and the idea was incredibly unappealing for some reason.

"Yeah, I'll be gone pretty early," Sherlock said softly. He looked around them on the roof. "I wish I had this in the country…just like this."

Molly gave him a comforting smile and nudged him. "It'll be just fine, you'll see. And I'm sure you'll be back before you know it!" She took a deep breath of cool air and got up the courage to lean in and give him a little peck on the cheek, which made him turn to look at her with wide eyes. "Come and see me ok? Whenever you get back to London. My dad said you're always welcome."

Sherlock was still a little awestruck, but he nodded as she got up from where she sat. "Bye, Molly," he said with a little half smile.

"Just think how much more beautiful the stars will be at midnight in the country!" Molly said, gesturing to the sky. "You don't need this old rooftop to enjoy them." She gave him one more bright smile and waved before shuffling off to the door again.

Sherlock swallowed hard as he looked into the deep blue sky and heard the door shut. He smiled to himself and whispered…

"The stars aren't the reason I love this rooftop."


	10. Who Gives this Woman Away?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title prompt fic

Molly took deep breaths in through her nose and let them out slowly through her mouth. This was certainly one of the happiest days of her life, but goodness knows she was also more than a little on edge. She stood at the doors of the chapel, ready to walk down the aisle to her soon to be husband, and could only occupy herself with nervously adjusting her vintage style gown over and over. She was walking by herself, which she had decided made sense...but it was only now that she also realized how much it added to her nerves.

When the moment came, all Molly could do was clutch the little bouquet in her hands and focus her eyes on Sherlock as she walked the length of the aisle. The whole thing, being the center of attention without anyone to hold onto, was raising her anxiety. And the last thing she wanted was for the sadness of missing her parents, and particularly her father, to take away from the happiness of the day.

When Molly finally reached Sherlock and was able to take hold of his arm, she let out a small sigh of relief. Though she also knew that the whole ceremony was likely to continue being emotional for her. It wasn't how she had always imagined it when she was younger. The faces she wanted to see...just weren't there smiling back at her. But Sherlock had said he took care of things and had asked for a certain part of the vows to be skipped over, so that comforted her a bit.

Sherlock looked down at Molly and gave her a little wink, which earned him a smile. He could tell she was still a bit on edge with the drama and excitement of the day, and he definitely hoped that this upcoming little touch would make her feel a bit more at ease.

As the preacher said the words, "Who gives this woman away?" Molly's eyes got huge and Sherlock could tell that she was momentarily horrified, since she'd been assuming this was exactly what would not be asked to the crowded room. She was about to speak up and sadly say there was nobody to answer, but as Molly heard the scuffling sound of someone getting up, she tentatively turned and glanced at the guests.

John and Mary stood up...followed by Meena, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade, Anderson, and all the friends from the Yard. And then Mike Stamford stood, and so did other colleagues at Bart's. Mycroft even stood, along with the Holmes parents. In all, a large part of the whole room stood and smiled at the front of the room where Molly was now softly weeping at this unexpected display of love.

John glanced around at all the caring friends who were standing especially in their support of Molly, and he answered loud and clear. "We all do."

Molly choked out another little sob and carefully dabbed at her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. She looked out at the crowd and it was all she could do to silently mouth the words "I love you." She soaked up all that support, and despite her tears, she suddenly felt more at ease than she had all day.

She looked back at Sherlock then. "I love you...but you ruined my makeup," she whispered with a little laugh.

"Oh that's nothing, Molly," he said with a look of adoration. "I'm about to ruin the rest of your life."

All she could do was smile up at him, and think how she couldn't wait to say 'I do.'


	11. Unexpected Guests and Lemon Flavored Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back when I wrote this little title prompt, I remember thinking of it as a bit of an AU of Winds of Change, by swapping Sherlock and Molly's roles in a way. Of course now I'm like, wow...how many times and ways can I use and abuse that original fic lol? XD

"Molly!" Sherlock exclaimed rather loudly as he opened the door and saw her standing there.

"Hi!" She gave him a cheery smile. "I had some uh, organ samples from the hospital today. Thought you'd like to have them."

"Yes, excellent! Why don't you just bring them in and set them in the kitchen," he said, ushering her into the kitchen and instantly past the living room.

"Oh um…ok," Molly agreed as she was given very little choice anyway. Sherlock followed her in as well and then began speaking in a whisper.

"I've got to get rid of my parents. They are driving me mad," he said through gritted teeth as he glanced over his shoulder toward the living room. "I need you to set up in the kitchen and then perhaps act as if you desperately need me to help you with some sort of experiment."

Molly chuckled. "I need you to help me with an experiment?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, well they won't care if it's my own experiment, will they?"

"Sherlock, get back in here! Or have you forgotten you have guests?" Mrs. Holmes called. "And could you bring that lemon in here for our tea?"

Sherlock took a deep breath and gave Molly a pleading expression as he grabbed the little plate of lemon slices and went back into the living room.

As the poor man went back to sit with his parents, Molly was incredibly amused to listen to the interchange. Not only was it always hysterically funny to simply hear how very typical a set of parents he had, but it was also especially amusing and surprising to hear them badgering him about being single. Molly had to cover her mouth multiple times as his mother and father picked on him about how many lovely things he was missing out on because he refused to share his life with another person. Although, she also couldn't help but pity him. She knew how he felt about relationships. And it seemed that he'd be unlikely to get his parents to see his side of the argument very easily. Probably a bit tiresome for Sherlock to deal with. Molly paused as she was setting the containers of samples on the table. Was it possible that she could take this opportunity to rescue the poor floundering detective?

"This conversation is pointless," Sherlock finally said. "There is simply no reason for you to-"

"Sorry, Sherlock, I don't mean to interrupt but I just had to say hello while I'm here," Molly said sweetly as she came into the room. "I've been dying to see the both of you since this whole thing started!"

Sherlock frowned at her, clearly concerned that she wasn't pulling him away from this frustration, but was instead joining in and prolonging the problem.

"Molly I really don't think-" Sherlock was cut short and his eyes almost popped out of his head as Molly leaned down and pressed a kiss right on his lips! All three in the room were effectively rendered speechless when Molly pulled away and stood upright again.

Molly strolled over to Sherlock's awestruck parents and grinned. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes! It's such a pleasure to see you again, and this is so much lovelier than some of the other times," she said with a little laugh.

"I-it's a pleasure to see you as well," Mrs. Holmes managed to say. She looked at Sherlock. "Was there perhaps something you were going to be telling us, darling?"

"Oh!" Molly exclaimed, clasping a hand over her mouth. She looked at Sherlock. "My goodness, had you not told them? I know it's early days, but I just assumed…oh I'm so very sorry! I should have known he'd be a bit tight lipped!" She grimaced in embarrassment at the older couple.

"Oh, not to worry," Mr. Holmes said with a warm smile. "I do believe that the news itself makes up for the unexpected surprise!" He winked at his son. "Well done, my boy. It's about time!"

Sherlock chuckled nervously and stood from his seat as his parents began excitedly whispering to each other. "Molly, may I perhaps see you for a moment in the kitchen?"

"Of course, darling," she answered with a smile and linked their arms as they walked away.

"Molly, what are you playing at?!" Sherlock demanded in a hushed voice.

"I'm saving you," Molly said with a proud little smirk. "Wouldn't you like for your parents to leave you alone? Well perhaps they'd do just that if they believe you already have a girlfriend! Seems like the logical solution to me."

Sherlock huffed out a breath. "That couldn't possibly work," he said, but Molly could tell he was already mulling it over in detail in his brain and also seriously considering it.

"No strings attached," Molly said firmly. "Promise."

Sherlock stared at her, still silently considering.

"You can bring me to essential family gathering and occasionally use me as an excuse to get out of things," Molly went on. "All I ask is that you do not treat me badly and that you show some appreciation for the fact that I'm making your life easier, even though I don't have to. I'm simply doing you a favor…as your friend."

Sherlock seemed to be about to object again, but then he paused, took a breath, and opened his mouth again. "Fine…yes, fine, I'll agree. No strings attached?"

"No strings attached," Molly repeated and confirmed again.

Sherlock nodded. "Right, then let's do this properly, shall we?"

Molly's knees almost gave way when Sherlock suddenly took her in his arms and began very enthusiastically kissing the side of her neck. Molly was too surprised to form words, and could only utter a small gasp. Sherlock pulled away a moment later and pursed his lips as he examined her skin carefully. Then he nodded, looking satisfied with the results.

"Yes, I'd say that makes our private conversation in the kitchen even more believable." He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. "Shall we join my parents again and see if they'll soon leave us to those organ samples? Surely they'll get the impression now that we need some time to ourselves!" Sherlock gave her a grin, looking far too pleased with himself, and headed back to the living room.

As Molly followed him on shaky legs, she could only mutter under her breath, "Dear Lord, what have I done?"


	12. He Learned It On YouTube

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tries his hand at YouTube :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was previously posted on Tumblr and I kinda forgot about it for a while. But I remembered just recently and wanted to add it to my one shot collection on here. This idea started because there was some giggles on Tumblr about how hysterical it would be if Sherlock started his own YouTube channel as an offshoot of his blog. And then and anon asked me to write a little something...and naturally I wanted it to take the route to sherlolly land lol. Enjoy!

__“Oh, Molly, hello,” Mrs. Hudson said sweetly as they crossed paths on the landing.

“Hi, I’m just here to help-”

“Oh he’s making one of his videos again!” She grimaced. “He won’t let me up there for hours at a time some days!”

“Yeah, I know I’m bringing him…” Molly hesitated. “Something for that.”

“Well good luck!” Mrs. Hudson waved to her and headed back to her own flat.

Molly climbed the steps and listened before knocking at Sherlock’s door. Heaven forbid she interrupt the recording process.

“Hello! I’ve got the um, skin samples,” she announced when finally swinging the door open.

“Oh excellent!” His eyes lit up. “And I’ll need an assistant as well!”

“Well…I suppose.”

She had “assisted” a couple times before and it was a bit of a tedious process. He was all business, maybe even more so than when there wasn’t a camera on him. Though, Molly wondered if perhaps she could help him to try something else on for size.

“Good!” Sherlock clapped his hands.

“We’ll do the experiment introduction over here and then move to the kitchen for the rest.” He pulled up a chair and patted the seat, encouraging her to sit next to him.

Molly dutifully hung up her coat and scarf and took a seat, despite the fact that she hadn’t exactly planned to be in front of a camera that day. All the more reason to turn the tables on the Consulting YouTuber!

Sherlock started his webcam recording and smiled.

“I am Sherlock Holmes and this is another edition of The Science of Deduction. We have quite a lot to cover today, so let’s get started. This is my friend and colleague Dr. Molly Hooper. She’ll be assisting today.”

“Hello!” Molly gave a grin and wave to the camera. Then she nudged him.

“Sherlock, why don’t we do something fun first?”

He looked instantly frightened. “W-what are you talking about, Molly? We’re showing the viewers the effects of different chemicals on-”

“Oh I know, but I bet they want to know something fun about _you_! Come on, we can do the experiment right after!”

Sherlock looked back and forth from the camera to his grinning assistant. He made a move toward shutting the camera off, but then stopped and sighed.

“Right, fine. What shall we tell them?” he asked with a little head wag.

“Hm, how about how much you love to dance?” Molly bit her lip and smiled as Sherlock’s cheeks turned a little pink. She looked at the camera and pointed at him for extra emphasis.

“I rarely dance,” Sherlock attempted.

“Yes, but you’re very good!” Molly looked back at the camera again and emitted a little gasp. “Hey, why don’t you show them a little something?!”

“Oh no no, I couldn’t-”

“Oh yes, come on you should!”

“Nobody wants to see-”

“They do! I’m sure they all do!”

“Fine!” he finally growled and got up from his seat, prompting Molly to make an excited face at the camera. Though, she looked a bit different when she saw his hand reaching out towards her.

“You are the assistant today, are you not?” He raised a brow.

“Oh.” She laughed nervously. “Um…ok.”

Well, she’d gotten herself into this, so she couldn’t argue about playing along.

Molly stood, and after Sherlock had turned the laptop toward the open center of the room, she aligned herself properly with Sherlock, his hands warm and strong around hers and her waist. He took his mobile out and began a classical song playing and cranked up the volume. Their feet began moving and Molly had to continually remind herself that they were being filmed. She rather wished they weren’t now, seeing as she could feel the heat pooling in her cheeks as she looked up into his eyes.

“Dr, Hooper,” Sherlock said in a low voice.

“Aren’t we supposed to be entertaining the viewers? Perhaps you should see if you can recite the periodic table while keeping step?”

Molly smirked at him. Oh yes, now he was trying to get back at her now.

“I can’t do both those things at the same time. Not while you’re-” She stopped herself. “It’s just a bit difficult to do the two things at once. Different parts of the brain, you see!” She made a humorous expression at the camera, trying to continue with some sort of education for Sherlock’s sake.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to be too boring though,” he said with a mock thoughtful expression. And then he spun her out, causing a little yelp to come from her lips.

Molly laughed as he spun her back into his arms and continued leading them around the small space. She could swear he’d pulled her in closer after that spin.  
Sherlock began rattling off some previews of the upcoming experiment they’d be doing, though the whole time he had his eyes locked to hers as their feet moved. Molly was riveted and it felt like the longer she looked at him the more fluid their movements became. She was admittedly disappointed as the music began to slow. He surprised her again though, anchoring his hand further around her back and leaning her backward into a dip, his face inches from hers.

“And that,” he murmured, finishing his thought for the viewers while still looking into her eyes. “Will be the experiment that we’ll be showing you in just a moment.”

Molly hung there, feeling weightless. She was a breath away from moving her face upward just a bit and touching her lips to his, but she also didn’t want to A) possibly make a fool of herself, and B) give him anything he’d have to edit out. Because heaven help her, she was not going to kiss Sherlock Holmes for the first time in front of the entirety of the internet. That was the recipe for media rumors to spread like wildfire!

She finally tore her eyes from his and looked toward the laptop. “We’ll take a short break and then be right back. Got to take off our dancing shoes and put on our protective gear on!”

Sherlock took the hint and finally lifted her up again and then stopped the camera. He perched his hands on his hips and smiled at her. “Happy now?”

“I am.” Her answer came out a bit breathier than she’d intended and she had to clear her throat. “I mean, it just seems like you’d get a few more viewers if you do some fun things in between the science stuff.”

He tilted his head in thought. “Well, I suppose the likes will speak for themselves.”

“Yes, I think they will,” she said with a confident little nod.

“Science?”

Molly smiled. “Science.”

* * *

 

Two days later Molly woke up to see a few texts from Sherlock waiting in her inbox. She couldn’t help but laugh as she began reading.

HOW IS IT POSSIBLE THAT I’VE GOTTEN ONLY ONCE COMMENT RELATED TO THE ACTUAL EXPERIMENT?? -SH

ABSOLUTELY NOBODY SEEMS TO REMEMBER THAT THIS IS A SCIENTIFIC CHANNEL AND NOT ONE PRIMARILY FOR FUN! THEY’RE ALL COMMENTING REQUESTS TO DO IDIOTIC CHALLENGES NOW! I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT ANY OF THESE EVEN MEAN! -SH

THE OTHER MAJORITY OF COMMENTS ARE REGARDING WHETHER WE’RE TOGETHER, AND IF NOT, WHETHER YOU ARE SINGLE! -SH

Molly could barely catch her breath by the time she got to the third message. But she had to smile at the fourth one though.

INCIDENTALLY THOUGH, MY SUBSCRIBERS HAVE SKYROCKETED AND I HAVE AN ASTRONOMICAL NUMBER OF LIKES ON THIS VIDEO…FANCY ANOTHER FILMING SESSION NEXT WEEK?? -SH

Molly thought for a moment and then typed her response…

IT’S A DATE. xxx -MH


	13. Ask Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victorian era arranged engagement and Molly feels it's time to call off the whole thing because of being sure Sherlock has feelings for Irene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for @likingthistoomuch, previously posted on tumblr ;)

Sherlock passed by the library in his parent’s estate, catching sight of Molly lingering by the fireplace and wringing her hands a bit. The silvery gown she wore glistened with the kiss of the nearby flames, and for a moment she looked almost unearthly.

“Ah, Miss Hooper,” he announced casually as he entered the room. “Watson said he saw you head this way. Perhaps it would be best if you rejoined the party, seeing as my father is preparing to announce our engagement.”

She remained silent.

Sherlock frowned to himself. Something wasn’t right.

“Miss Hooper?” he questioned, stepping further into the room now.

“I cannot,” she said very softly.

“Cannot…what?”

Molly turned then, revealing the shimmer of tears on her cheeks which matched her gown. She gave him a quick smile.

“Mr. Holmes, I cannot go through with this. This engagement and marriage…it is so obviously a mistake.”

He tilted his head, processing her surprising words.

“I cannot blame my father, I suppose. Wanting to ensure my welfare for after he was gone.” She pressed her lips together, controlling emotion for a moment. “But he could not have known the error he was making. I myself thought up to now that it was simply your work that prompted you not to invest attention elsewhere. But now, tonight, I see it is more than that.”

Sherlock was genuinely confused now. “To what are you referring?”

Molly sniffed. “Miss Adler, of course. I saw you just now, speaking together. And I understand, truly! Surely it cannot be helped…how one feels.” She nodded in kind understanding, despite the pain in her eyes.

“Miss Hooper, I-”

“Please, there is no need to spare my feelings. I think the best remedy for me is a swift break,” she stated firmly. “I will call for my carriage, take my leave, and surely your bother is up to the task of dissolving the arrangement that my father and your parents agreed upon. It has not been announced, after all. No one need know.”

Sherlock stood there, mentally jumbled and rendered unfortunately mute. His mouth had gone dry, and he felt completely helpless as she hurried past him with a swish of her skirts and he listened to her footsteps hurry down the hallway.

If that hadn’t been enough to throw him, a moment later his brother entered the library, clicking his tongue.

“It seems I will need to tell Father to hold off on that announcement.” He eyes Sherlock carefully. “You’ll need a bit of time to fix this.”

Sherlock swallowed hard. “I’ve lost her,” he whispered, feeling the intense pain of the reality by speaking it aloud.

“Don’t be ridiculous, brother mine,” Mycroft scoffed. “You never had her.”

“Pardon me?” Sherlock asked with more volume.

“You never had her,” he reemphasized. “She has always assumed this engagement was only an arrangement on paper to you. You were never honest about your own feelings on the matter. You never did admit how very willingly you submitted to the idea, did you?”

Sherlock’s downcast gaze answered loud and clear and Mycroft dropped his voice.

“Tell her, Sherlock,” he instructed. “And tell her _now_.”

The two Holmes men stared silently at each other for a moment, and then Sherlock finally nodded. He rushed from the room, leaving his brother smiling confidently.

Sherlock quickly followed the direction she’d gone outside. He saw her carriage being readied and deduced that she would have chosen to walk in the nearby garden while waiting. Sucking in deep breaths of courage, he headed through the shrubs in search of her.

It didn’t take long for him to catch sight of her, pacing slowly in the twilight and running her fingers gently over some lilies. She jumped and turned as his footsteps announced his presence.

“Mr. Holmes, I beg you-”

“No, Miss Hooper, I will beg _you_ to listen to _me_ now,” he said, hastily cutting her off this time, which seemed to work. “You were wrong.”

She was riveted to him as he approached, but clearly still unsure.

“Please allow me to apologize for my behavior. My history with Miss Adler could, by some definitions, be called intimate. And she certainly has no qualms about openly displaying a sort of…attachment to me.” He looked at her intensely. “But I swear to you, that is as far as it goes. She is an excellent woman in many respects, but she is no more than a friend.”

Molly sighed and shook her head. “Perhaps that is true, but this hardly changes the fact that this arrangement is not right. You clearly would not be happy and I-” Her voice broke a bit and she looked away.

Sherlock stepped close enough to reach for her hand, making her freeze in surprise.

“And you,” he murmured. “Would you be happy?”

Molly hesitated, looking from his eyes to where their hands were connected. “I…well, I- I thought perhaps I could be. But if you do not want-”

“What I want?” He laughed low and grasped both her hands then, holding them firmly against his chest. “Forgive me for failing to make this clear before now. I see now that I should have. Miss Hooper, ask me now what I want.” His tone was one of desperation now. “Please…ask me.”

Tears swelled in Molly’s eyes then as she finally began to see the raw honesty that Sherlock was offering to her. Her lips lifted a bit as she whispered her question.

“What do you want?”

“You,” Sherlock answered instantly, bringing her hands up to press warm kisses to her knuckles.

When he had finished showering her hands with affection though, he realized it was not quite enough, and he leaned down to join his lips to hers for the very first time. It was soft and sweet and felt like home. He already knew he wanted her, but now he truly felt it. And the sensation was a strange and wonderful combination of thrilling and soothing.

Sherlock finally pulled away, resting his forehead against hers and smiling at the sound of her light laughter.

“I suppose we should go back inside then,” she suggested.

“Yes, my parents are likely waiting. And speaking of my parents…with your permission,” he added. “I will be requesting that we expedite our wedding date.”

Molly said nothing, but she didn’t really need to. As she initiated their next kiss, her agreement was loud and clear in the spread of a smile he could feel against his lips.


	14. Mummy Hooper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock meeting Molly's mum for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for @ladysolitaire previously posted on tumblr ;)

“Be right back, mum,” Molly said on her way out of the lab. “I’ve just got to send this report upstairs and then we can get some lunch.”

“Not a problem, dear,” her mother assured her. “Take your time!”

Sherlock continued working silently nearby and took a moment to sip his coffee right before Molly’s mother’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“So…you fancy my daughter.”

He nearly choked.

“I’m…sorry?” Sherlock frowned over at Mrs. Hooper.

“Oh honestly,” she laughed. “It’s not that difficult to see. I’m pleased we finally got to meet, because I’ve been dying to ask how long you intend to continue this silly little dance.”

He felt like a rug had been pulled out from under him. “I- uh, well I- I didn’t exactly think…that is, I hadn’t planned to…”

“Sherlock, don’t you think it’s time you _did_ plan?” She smiled kindly. “It has obviously been years. From what Molly has told me more recently, I like you. I truly do. But as a mother, I cannot advise my daughter to wait around till the end of time!”

Sherlock cleared his throat nervously. He hadn’t expected this today! Though he couldn’t help but be a bit impressed with Mrs. Hooper.

“Listen, she’ll be back any moment,” Mrs. Hooper said quickly. “I have an idea, and I imagine you’ll be clever enough to keep up.”

Sherlock didn’t have time to respond since Molly did walk back in right then.

“Right, I’m all done. Mum, you ready to go?”

“I am, yes.” She got up and pulled her coat on. “Oh, Molly, I just thought I’d mention now, do you mind if we cancel our plans this evening? You’ve been keeping me wonderfully busy, but I’d love a night of rest. And I’m here for another full week so we’ll still have plenty of time left for you to plan outings.”

Sherlock caught the very briefest of glances from Mrs. Hooper and he had to twist his lips to avoid a smile of amusement at her cunning plan.

“Oh,” Molly said softly. “Well alright, that’s fine. You’re right, we have plenty of time left. No need to tire you out!”

As the two Hooper women headed for the door, a burst of bravery shoved Sherlock from his seat and pried his lips open.

“Molly,” he called after her, halting them. “Seeing as you’re free this evening, I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Help solving crimes?” Molly asked casually while wrapping her scarf.

Sherlock smiled shyly. “No, actually…dinner.”

Behind the wide eyed Molly, Mrs. Hooper gave Sherlock a proud smile. 


	15. A Molly Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's got a secret and it's driving Sherlock up the wall that he can't deduce it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for @simplyshelbs16xoxo previously posted on tumblr ;)

“You’re not fooling me, Molly,” Sherlock said with a confident little chuckle.

“Well…I sort of am,” she countered with a wink.

Sherlock’s expression fell again. Infuriatingly mysterious woman! He’d been trying to get to the bottom of this for a week now, and had made little or no progress. She was keeping to herself so much, only coming over to his flat and keeping him away from hers, and even taking some private phone calls out of earshot. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. It was just…he wanted to know!

He hadn’t asked straight out yet, but that was only out of pride. He felt strongly that he should be able to figure this out. Not only because of who he was, but also because it was Molly. His girlfriend!

Sherlock sauntered up behind where she stood in the lab and placed his hands firmly on her hips before leaning down to plant a few soft kisses along the side of her neck. Her shoulders scrunched up and she giggled softly.

“Sherlock, I am working,” she reminded him gently.

“Mm, and looking just lovely while doing it. Perhaps I could…” He kissed a particularly favored spot of hers. “Come over later?”

Molly turned her head and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. “I’d love that, but I’m actually busy this evening.”

Sherlock groaned and stepped away as his restraint cracked. “With _whaaaaat_?!”

Molly couldn’t help laughing at her frustrated boyfriend. “Ok ok, look you’ve been pretty patient…well, for you you’ve been patient. Anyway, can you plan to come over this Saturday?”

“I suppose so,” he answered, still wearing a small pout.

She grinned. “Good! I can’t wait!” She also made a point to pull him back in toward her and kiss him very thoroughly before shooing him off and getting back to work.

Sherlock wanted to continue being frustrated…but it was awfully difficult when she kissed him like that.

* * *

 

“Ok, keep your eyes closed!” Molly insisted as she led him into her flat that weekend.

“Yes yes, they’re closed,” he confirmed again. “Why are we going to the spare bedroom?”

“Well,” Molly said excitedly. “That’s not really what it is anymore. Want to open your eyes and see?”

Sherlock opened his eyes, looked around, and his jaw dropped. There he stood in a…a lab?

Molly began happily explaining as Sherlock walked around the room gawking at everything.

“You see, I got this idea not long after we…you know, got together. Neither of us is really using this room anymore. And I almost never have guests. In an emergency my couch is awfully comfortable. Anyway! I thought, what could be better than our own little lab right here? So I had those shelves made and had fridge put in and the sink and brought in all these supplies. I’m really pretty pleased with how it all came out!” She grinned, looking around the room.

Sherlock was still gaping at the sights and at a loss for words, but after a few moments he crossed the room again to march back to her, take her in his arms, and kiss her breathless.

“God, I love you,” he practically growled when finally separating their lips.

“And aren’t you glad it was a surprise?” She looked awfully pleased with herself.

“Well…maybe a little,” he admitted reluctantly. “But in general, you know I don’t like not knowing.”

Molly smirked and playfully touched her nose to his. “I know you, Sherlock Holmes. Don’t pretend you don’t love a good mystery!”


	16. So This Is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based Cinderella AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for @kalkopyryt previously posted on tumblr

“For goodness sake, Sherlock, she can’t possibly be here!” Captain Lestrade complained as his and John’s horses approached the old building along with Sherlock. “This is a mortuary! It was run by that old man…Hooper, I believe. But he’s long dead and I believe it’s run by his son now.”

Sherlock stopped his horse, unconcerned with his complaints. “I will not rest, not till I have checked the entire kingdom. I swore I would find her, and marry her, and I meant it!”

Lestrade and John exchanged weary glances. They’d been at this with the Prince for almost two weeks now, searching high and low for the mysterious young woman that had somehow cracked through the walls around his heart at the ball. And now that those walls had been breached, he wanted nothing but to find her again. The problem was, she seemed to have vanished into thin air. Not a trace of her and no record of her existence. All Sherlock had was a name. One little name…Molly. That, and the memory of her face.

“Who are you?” Sherlock gruffly demanded of a man who came out of the building.

“Anderson, your highness,” he said with a nervous bow. “Philip Anderson. To what do we owe this honor?”

“I wish for you to bring forth all your staff. Bring them here and line them up. And where is your master?”

“He is uh…” Anderson hesitated. “A bit busy at the moment.”

“Tell him that the Prince demands his presence!” Sherlock insisted. “I will not leave until his entire household and staff have been thoroughly inspected!”

Anderson nodded and bowed again, scurrying off to do as he was asked. Sherlock huffed in annoyance and paced impatiently in the dirt as he waited for everyone to come out. Finally, a few men and a couple scullery maids walked outside with Anderson.

“The master is coming, your highness,” he explained with another small bow of his head.

Sherlock didn’t respond, but instead began slowly walking along the line of staff that stood nervously waiting. He stopped in front of the two scullery maids, glancing at them only briefly before shaking his head.

“Too tall, both of them,” he stated instantly. As he did, he noticed in his peripheral that the master come walking outside to stand next to Anderson.

“Is this the entirety of your staff?” Sherlock demanded without looking at him, hands still clasped behind his back.

“It is,” came the master’s simple reply.

“No other young women work here?”

“Sherlock, it’s over,” John said gently. “This was the last place. Just let it go.”

The Prince ignored his friend and turned to take quick strides over to the owner of the mortuary.

“No, that cannot be, sir! There is nowhere else, so that has to mean that somewhere here you have-”

Sherlock froze as he came face to face with the man before him. His lips hung open as his eyes connected with those very same brown eyes as…

“Height, eyes, nose, mouth,” Sherlock murmured. “Molly.”

He approached slowly as he saw moisture pooling in those big brown eyes. He reached up and cautiously placed a hand on the head of short hair and gave a experimental tug, which of course removed it completely…allowing a long brown braid to fall around those petite shoulders.

Lestrade and John exchanged looks of shock.

Molly reached up and tearfully removed the beard from her face as well. She gave him a watery smile.

“Your highness, forgive me. I am not…not what you believed me to be,” she whispered. She gestured around her. “This is my life, or it has been since my father’s death. It was the only way to keep everything that was his; everything I loved. I had to become someone else. I wanted so badly to have that one night of freedom, and it was unbelievable! But I know that I would never truly be worthy to-”

Sherlock reached down and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up a bit and stopping her words with a kiss. The small crowd of Molly’s employees and friends of the prince couldn’t help but grin as she clung to him, kissing him in return until he finally set her down.

“I fell in love with _you_ , Molly,” Sherlock whispered vehemently. “You were nothing like the other ladies that night, and in the very best way. Never say that you are not worthy, when there is nobody who could ever be more worthy than you. Please tell me my search was not in vain…and marry me, Molly.”

Molly wept joyfully and buried her face in his neck as she repeated her acceptance of his proposal over and over against his skin. A string of laughter and kisses and embraces ensuing that nobody wanted to interrupt. 

“Well that was a bit unexpected,” Captain Lestrade commented to John soon after as they mounted their horses again and left prince Sherlock to make wedding preparations with his new bride to be.

“Oh I don’t know, seems rather fitting to me,” John said with a laugh. “Who else would Prince Sherlock fall in love with but the woman who runs the local mortuary?!”


	17. Cracking Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock undercover as an appliance repairman and Molly noticing and appreciating his plumbers crack (The bad puns are strong with this one LOL)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for @mizjoely previously posted on tumblr

Molly nearly jumped three feet in the air as she let herself and her date into her flat…and saw a man standing in her kitchen. And especially because it wasn’t just any man.

“My God, what are you doing here, Sh-”

“’At’s right, Miss,” he said, gesturing to his name tag. “Name’s Shawn. Ope you don’t mind your landlord let me in to work on that pesky dishwasher at’s been givin you troubles.”

Molly sighed heavily and glanced at her poor confused date standing next to her. “Um, sorry about this, Brent.”

“Not a problem,” he said with a smile. 

Sherlock turned and opened the dishwasher, crouching down to peer inside. He hummed rather loudly to himself as he did and Molly’s date gave her an amused smile. 

“Brent, why don’t you take the bottle of wine and these wine glasses and wait for me by the fire. I’ll be there in just a…” Molly glanced back toward Sherlock as she spoke and momentarily choked on her words. 

Dear lord, his jeans (her brain could barely even process anything past the way that man wore jeans) were riding awfully low with him crouching down like that. Oh yes…very low! Never before had Molly Hooper thought of “plumber’s crack” as being sexy, but leave it to Sherlock Holmes to be the one to prove her wrong! The git… 

“You’ll be there in just a minute?” Brent finished for her, now looking a little irritated at her obvious distraction.

“Right, yes! Be there in just a minute,” Molly confirmed cheerily. 

The moment he was in the other room, Sherlock stood up and she pounced in a hushed voice. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Molly, you cannot keep seeing this man,” Sherlock said seriously, moving his cap and running fingers through his hair. “You’re going to need to figure out a way to get rid of him.”

She laughed bitterly. “Oh of course. Of course I can’t see him! What is it this time, hm? What ridiculous little flaw have you discovered?”

Sherlock lifted a brow. “Only that he’s an ex employee of Jim Moriarty.” He gave her a know-it-all smile.

Molly blinked in shock and then rolled her eyes. “My God, where do I find these men?!”

“You do have a type, Molly.”

“Not funny,” she answered flatly.

“Mm, a bit funny.”

She looked him up and down with a smirk. She didn’t feel like being the only one to look a little foolish here. 

“Actually, what I find funny at the moment is that my _type_ also apparently includes forgetting to wear a belt.” She reached down and gave his waistband a tiny tug. (Which, quite frankly, she was happy to do anyway.)

He instantly began to look a bit embarrassed. “I was a bit rushed seeing as your safety was at risk,” he said through clenched teeth. “Perhaps you’d be grateful?”

“Lovely pants by the way,” she went on teasingly. “Oh! Wait, that’s right…I didn’t see any!”

“Oh yes, alright!”

“I saw something very different. In fact, that reminds me,” she said, putting on a mock serious expression. “Sherlock, I thought we’d talked about how dangerous and unacceptable drug use is, but because I am your friend, I will tell you once again that _crack kills_!” At this point Molly dissolved into hysterics.

“Ok ok, fine! I get it!” he hissed, though he was also beginning to laugh now.

“Oi!”

Sherlock and Molly both stopped laughing and looked at Brent who was standing there staring at them questioningly.

“Did I miss something? Do you two know each other?” He was not looking pleased anymore.

Molly placed a kind hand on his shoulder. “No no, sorry, Brent. It’s just that…this dishwasher is really acting up and I don’t think _Shawn_ here will be able to have it fixed very quickly. Could we maybe try again next weekend?”

He sighed. “Yeah, sure, why not?” He walked over with Molly and picked up his coat, kissing her on the cheek as she thanked him for the nice evening.

The second the door shut, Sherlock was on his mobile. 

“Lestrade? Yes he’s leaving Molly’s flat now. You should be able to catch him. Right…thanks.” As Sherlock hung up he was greeted by the sight of Molly snapping a picture of him. “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

Molly shrugged and stuck her phone back in her pocket. “You’re in jeans, a white undershirt, a tool belt, and a cap, Sherlock. When am I ever going to see this again?”

He paused in thought for a moment and then sauntered over to her. “Actually, I’d say…any time you like.”

Molly’s lips lifted in a slow smile of understanding. “Oh really?”

“Mm. Might save the risk of encountering other men you’d be better off avoiding. And if it helps…I could even forget the belt again.” He flashed her a grin.

She pursed her lips. “Ooh, I don’t know. I mean, it’s tempting but still so difficult to say.”

He kept his eyes on hers as he reached down to thread their fingers together. “Why is that?” he murmured low.

“Well, I just feel so emotionally… _divided_ ,” she stated with a smirk and then began to giggle again. “Almost like I’m _split right down the middle!”_

Sherlock groaned as her laughter became uncontrollable. 

Molly didn’t torment him for too long though. Despite the teasing, she also made sure she was clear about how very adorably distracting it was to see him like that, and the fact that it was just one of the very many ways she found him to be incredibly sexy.

Though, that sort of talk only came after Sherlock halted her giggles…with a very thorough kiss.


	18. Third Wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teen!lock where Molly starts out as John's date but things shift during the evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for anon previously posted on tumblr

“Look, all I’m asking is that you try to be civil,” John said to his best friend while buttoning his shirt and checking his hair in the mirror. “Honestly, I think you’ll like her. She’s…well, I think she’s probably the first girl in a long time that I really genuinely have a lot in common with. She wants to be be a doctor as well!” John was trying his best to make her sound thrilling. “And besides that, she’s adorable and sweet and just…well, she’s just really nice.”

“I can hardly wait,” was the only response Sherlock offered, still focused on the contents of the dish he was holding. 

John rolled his eyes at Sherlock’s sarcastic words. “Listen, if you don’t want to bother with her then just go to your room and keep to yourself so I can at least enjoy her company. And I’m not sure if we’re getting take away or eating at a restaurant, but either way I can get you something.”

Sherlock shrugged. “Not hungry.”

A knock at the door made John rush to answer with one more warning glance at his friend.

“Molly, hi!” John greeted warmly. “Take your coat?”

“Oh sure, thanks.” She was just as cheery and bright as John remembered.

They walked into the little flat’s kitchen and John gestured to Sherlock. “Molly, this is Sherlock Holmes, my friend I mentioned the other day.”

Molly stared at the tall dark haired figure in the kitchen, and when he turned to face her and pulled his safety glasses off, John did a little double take. Was Sherlock…blushing?

His hand shot out and Molly took it for a somewhat extended handshake.

“Hi…I’m Molly.”

“Sherlock…good to meet you, Molly.”

John looked back and forth between them. “Right, so…Molly, did you want to go round the block to the pub or…we could just order take away.”

“Mm, sure,” she agreed quickly at the sound of the second option. “I’m fine with take away.”

“Yes, that would be fine,” Sherlock agreed.

“Thought you weren’t hungry,” John said, giving him a pointed glare which Sherlock avoided.

“My goodness!” Molly exclaimed, looking down at the pile of mail on the table. She picked up an envelope and pointed to the return address. “Is this the same Dr. William M. Bass that I think it is?”

Sherlock looked a little shocked. “You know of Dr. Bass?”

“Who’s he?” John questioned, wondering how they both knew this same man.

“He’s an anthropologist in the United States who started a research facility in Tennessee that’s commonly known as ‘the body farm,’” Molly explained excitedly. 

John chuckled. “Bit of an adults only sort of place, eh?”

Sherlock and Molly both gave him a blank stare.

“Right, yeah, not those kinds of bodies…” John’s voice trailed off and he cleared his throat.

“It’s a research facility dedicated to human decomposition in many different settings and temperatures and conditions,” Molly corrected. “Are you corresponding with him,” she asked Sherlock, stepping over closer to him. 

“Well, just a bit.” 

John noted the proud little smile on his friend’s face.

“He’s been kind enough to share some of his findings with me, since I explained my particular interest in chemistry and forensics. Also did him a couple of favors…helped him work some thing out. I’m hoping to plan a visit to the facility in Tennessee over one of the breaks this year. I’ve been promised an insider’s peek.” Sherlock held his head high. 

“God, what I wouldn’t give to go there! That sounds amazing!” Molly gushed.

“We are still talking about dead bodies, right?” John questioned under his breath, which the other two didn’t seemed to notice. “Yeah, ok, I’ll just order some take away then…”

Three hours, multiple containers of take away, and many many science based discussions later, Molly Hooper was finally taking her leave. By that time, John was hardly shocked that Sherlock accompanied them to the door.

“John, thanks so much,” Molly said sweetly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Really nice of you to invite me.”

He almost felt silly asking but… “So I’ll call you?”

Molly actually glanced at Sherlock first, but then back at John. “Um…sure, yeah that’s fine.”

John smiled, but almost instantly mentally discarded the possibility. 

Molly offered a handshake to Sherlock. “It was… _really_ nice to meet you, Sherlock. Maybe we’ll bump into each other another time?”

“Maybe we will.” Sherlock let her hand go but continued hanging by the door, not walking away till she’d actually gone and the door was shut. 

The minute she was gone, John reached in his pocket with a sigh, retrieved a piece of paper, and shoved it at Sherlock.

“What’s th-”

“Her number, Sherlock. Just take it.”

Sherlock feigned confusion as he took the paper. “I hardly see why you would-”

“For God’s sake, not the time to play at being slow,” John laughed. “You have my blessing, ok?”

Sherlock hesitated a moment, his gaze shifting nervously…but then he pocketed the paper with a little smile on his lips. “Much appreciated, John. And don’t feel too sorry for the loss. Wouldn’t have worked anyway. She wasn’t your type.”

“Oh really?” John wagged his head. “And what’s my type then?”

Sherlock chuckled. “Ooh I think you have some growing up to do first. Your type of woman…you’re hardly ready for her yet.”


	19. Steal My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly turns up at 221B in an emotional state and Sherlock is moved to help however he can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for @elennemigo previously posted on tumblr

The moment he approached his door, he knew very well that someone was in his flat. His guard was up as he swung the door open, but as soon as his eyes fell on the surprise guest, his shoulders relaxed and gaze softened.

Molly.

She sat up from where she was reclined on the couch, sniffing and looking a bit red eyed. She’d been…crying?

“Molly, what is it?” Sherlock questioned, crossing the room to sit on his coffee table in front of her.

“Sherlock, I-” Her voice broke a little. “I need your help.”

His voice dropped low, an instant determination in his tone. “Anything.”

“Well, my flat got robbed earlier tonight. I wasn’t home!” she hurried to clarify. “But some things were taken. Obviously the more valuable electronics…but there were some smaller things as well.”

“Have you contacted the police? In case its somebody that’s already been brought in.”

She nodded. “I have. It’s not the first break in for the area, so Greg assured me they’re looking, but it’s just…I’m sure everything will be sold off and gone by the time they’re caught. I don’t care about most of the things, but there was just one piece of jewelry that I’d hate to lose forever.”

“Tell me,” he prompted, opening up a mental file and preparing to drop in a picture as he gave her hand a squeeze.

“It was a little rose gold locket in the shape of a heart. Except it looked more like an anatomical heart. There were some tiny little diamonds on the front. And on the inside was a picture of my dad on one side and my mum on the other side.” She pressed her lips together for a second. “My dad got it for me when I graduated.”

“Got it!” Sherlock hopped up from where he sat and headed for the door again.

Molly stood and followed after him. “Oh wait, Sherlock! I- I didn’t mean that this very second you absolutely have to-”

He touched her face for a moment and looked straight in her eyes. “Yes I do,” he said firmly. “And what’s more, I want to. Now…you stay here and try to relax. Hopefully I’ll get a lead and be back quickly.”

Molly was obviously a little dumbfounded that he was taking this cry for help so incredibly seriously. She nodded though, and told him to please be safe as he flew out the door. And she had no clue that Sherlock was currently swearing a vow to himself that he wouldn’t walk back into 221B without that necklace in his hand.

* * *

 

Molly stretched as she woke, feeling a little stiff and quickly recalling that it was because she’d fallen asleep on Sherlock Holmes’ couch. It was morning, and she instantly began to worry that something had happened and Sherlock hadn’t come back at all. But as soon as she sat up, she felt something surprising.

Molly’s hand went to her chest…and there hung the locket from around her neck! Her jaw dropped as she looked down, opening the locket to reveal the comforting and familiar faces of her parents. She pressed it to her skin and closed her eyes, unable to stop smiling with relief. And she was about to hop up and call for Sherlock to thank him. But it happened that at that moment he came through the door. He was holding a tray of coffee and bag of pastries and Molly immediately began gesturing clumsily at him as she approached.

“Sherlock, put the coffee and things down!”

He frowned in concern. “Wh-what? Why? What’s the matter now?”

“Just, please do it, Sherlock!” she begged with a laugh, almost jumping up and down.

Sherlock hesitantly complied, setting the items on the table. “I thought perhaps it would have been a good thing to get some- Oof!”

The second he’d straightened up again, Molly had leapt into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders and holding him tight. She felt him laugh a little before finally bringing his arms up around her. She let her head fall forward, her nose buried in the curve of his neck.

“Thank you, Sherlock,” she whispered. “Thank you a million times.”

He squeezed her back a little tighter. “It was nothing.”

She shook her head against his shoulder. “It wasn’t nothing. It was something to me.”

Molly finally released him and slid back down to stand flat on her feet, smiling up at him even as she felt the sad loss of her now empty arms.

He glanced down at the locket, touching it for a second. “It suits you,” he said softly.

“Thanks. I’m so grateful to have it back. It’s always meant a lot to me. Felt pretty awful to have this little heart stollen,” she said, giving it a pat.

Sherlock paused, shifting on his feet a little nervously. He swallowed thickly and then opened his mouth with the ghost of a smile at his lips.

“Yes, it can be an emotional experience…having your heart stollen.”

Something about the way he was looking at her prompted her soft spoken follow up question. “You know what that’s like, do you?”

He nodded slowly, reached down to take her hand, and then he smiled wider.

“I do. Not that I mind though…you can keep it.”


	20. Anything He Can Do, I Can Do Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealous Sherlock in the days of Molly going out with Jim from IT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for anon previously posted on tumblr

Sherlock covertly glanced at Molly as she worked busily in the lab. This was a good opportunity. John was busy and couldn’t be there, no other employees or visitors around…yes perhaps now was his chance. He cleared his throat.

“Thrilling episode of Glee last night, wasn’t it?”

Molly halted what she was doing and frowned at him. “Glee? You…like that show?”

“Mm, what’s not to like?” He grinned.

She smiled, though still looked rather suspicious. “So um, what was your favorite part then?”

“I’d have to say the uh…the singing.” _That could have been thought out a bit better. Time for a subject change_ …

“Molly, tell me, how is Toby?”

Her brow shot up. “My cat Toby? He’s…fine, thanks.”

“Ah, good old Toby. Always…there, isn’t he?” Sherlock attempted a fond smile.

“He certainly is,” Molly agreed. “Always on my bed when you crash at my place. And then you demand that I remove him for you because you won’t sleep with that hairball pawing at your face.”

Sherlock chuckled nervously. “Yes well, we actually get on awfully well. It would simply be too distracting to have him in the room while I’m there. Might interrupt my sleep because I’d so badly want to stay up and…pat him. And like you said! He likes me so much that all he wants to do is get attention from me during the night. Can’t think of leaving me alone!”

“That’s lovely to hear, Sherlock,” Molly said kindly, her lips twisting a little and holding back a laugh. “I’ll be sure to have you feed him next time I’m out of town then. I didn’t realize you were so attached till now!”

 _Blast_! “Mm, yes, that sounds like a lovely plan,” he said as genuinely as possible.

He wondered just what else that sly weasel Jim had to offer that he didn’t. Mentally paging through Molly’s blog entries, he desperately looked for some little clue…

“Coffee!” he shouted aloud.

Molly stared in confusion. “Yes…what about coffee?”

“You like it, don’t you?”

“Well, yes.”

“Excellent! I do as well,” he stated, looking pleased with himself.

“Yeah, I know, Sherlock. I’ve gotten it for you lots of times.”

“Yeeees…but we’ve never had it at the same time…together.”

Molly smiled a little. “That’s true, yes. Mostly because when I asked you, you turned me down.”

Sherlock’s expression fell. Yes, that’s right, he had brushed off that suggestion of her’s hadn’t he? Somehow he hadn’t considered the long term implications at the time, and now it was coming back to bite him! He hardly noticed Molly approach till she spoke again right next to him.

“You do realize I took your advice and ended things with Jim, right?” she asked softly.

He perked up. “Did you?”

She nodded. “He just, you know, wasn’t right for me.”

“He absolutely wasn’t!” Sherlock agreed instantly. “Let’s hope we never see him again.”

There was an awkward moment of silence before Molly sighed. “Well, at least I still have Toby.”

“Mm,” Sherlock hummed. “Though…not only Toby.”

Her little lips swept up in a grin.

Sherlock stood from where he sat in the lab and grabbed his coat. “Come on.”

“Where are you going?”

Sherlock held the door. “I thought we established that we both like coffee…and perhaps drinking it together.”

Molly very happily followed him out of the lab with a bit of a blush on her cheeks and Sherlock was finally beginning to feel like he was finally getting somewhere again. Things were looking up! Though, as they walked, he still felt it couldn’t hurt to make a little casual conversation on a pertinent topic…

“Fun little fact- I’m a full four inches taller than Jim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda couldn't stop thinking about Sherlock's line to Moriarty in TAB. "You're going in the water...short arse." XD XD XD


	21. Prelude to a Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock has come to terms with his feelings for Molly and now feels he has to come up with counter arguments to all the things he's said in the past in order to convince her to marry him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for anon previously posted on tumblr

Being unsure of where he stood was a truly miserable feeling.

Over the years, Sherlock had so very carefully conducted his friendship with Molly in such a way to make it either impossible or unappealing to progress romantically with her, but now he was in desperate need of backtracking. The events at Sherrinford had of course given the needed push, and now he had to make up for all those ridiculous years and show her that he did in fact want something. More than just something, really.

Sherlock wanted to marry her. He was shocked to realize how very much he wanted it.

He rolled his sleeves up as he sat on the floor continuing to push a colorful ball toward Rosie who was now sitting up by herself impressively well. The simple game was endlessly entertaining to her and it seemed that if anything she’d tire herself out with giggling before actually becoming bored.

“I’m just mashing up the vegetables and then I’ll be ready to feed her,” Molly called from the kitchen.

“I don’t mind doing it,” he offered.

“You always get your shirt stained!” Molly called back with a laugh.

“I’ll take my shirt off.”

Molly spun round to look at him with raised brows.

“While obviously leaving my undershirt on,” he clarified with a smirk on.

“Suit yourself. I’ll get her highchair set up and you can take it from there,” she agreed cheerily.

“What about you?” Sherlock asked while making his way down the buttons.

“What about me?”

“Dinner, I mean.” He held his breath.

“Well, I can probably feed myself, thanks.” She smiled at his eye roll. “Why? You hungry?”

“Wouldn’t mind some take away. Perhaps Chinese?” Wouldn’t mind was probably more accurately translated as _dear God yes, please can you stay??_

“Ok, sure. That does sound good. I’ll order while you feed her.”

An hour later, Sherlock sat at his table, gently rocking his torso back and forth as he managed to stuff the last bite of his egg roll in his mouth. As he did, he happened to glance at Molly who was smiling at him.

“Wha?” he questioned, not fully done chewing.

“Well, it’s a bit of a sight,” she said, nodding toward him.

Yes, he supposed it was. He was cradling a finally sleeping Rosie in one arm and managing to eat with the other free hand. It might seem an unusual look for him, but he hoped that was a good thing in this case.

Sherlock cleared his throat as he wiped some crumbs from his mouth. “It’s not so bad as I used to think it might be,” he admitted softly.

“What? Taking care of a baby?”

“That, yes. And just…all of it. Friends, family, caring for one another.” He looked straight at her. “Love.”

She read him, just as quickly as he would have expected. Her expression shifted, indicating that she’d picked up on the change in tone as well as the especially weighty L word. She attempted to keep things comfortable and casual though.

“Yeah, caring isn’t so bad,” she agreed with a smile. “It’s nice that you see that.”

“I do see it,” he said very seriously, still gazing at her. “Very very clearly now.”

Molly began to look a little nervous. She jumped up and came over to his seat. “Why don’t I, um, put her down for the night. It’ll be another couple hours before John is back.”

Sherlock didn’t argue. He got up to carefully pass Rosie to her arms, hoping as she left the room that perhaps Molly was looking to continue this conversation with him alone. And the expectant way she looked at him when she walked back into the sitting room a couple minutes later gave him further hope. He impetuously decided to dive in headlong.

“Molly, listen to me,” he said, taking her hand to lead her quickly over to sit on the couch. “There are things I need you to understand about me now, things that are different. Especially since the events at Sherrinford.”

“Sherlock-”

“No, please, just let me say this,” he begged.

She pressed her lips together in a smile and gestured for him to go ahead.

He sucked in a breath. “I realize that most of what you’ve known of me for years and years is that I think of emotions of any kind are a deterrent, and that sentiment clouds judgement and relationships only create unnecessary complications and distraction. But what you need to know is that I am now well aware that those beliefs were wrong. Not only were they wrong, I don’t even think I ever wholeheartedly believed them. I have even come to realize that my work is certainly not everything, and that things I previously scoffed at as unfulfilling are precisely the opposite. Marriage, children, all of it!” He grasped her hands firmly, speaking with conviction. “Please understand that I do not see those things as I once did. And what I said in that phone call, you might have told me to say it, but that didn’t make it any less true.”

Molly smiled gently. She lifted his hands and placed a kiss to his knuckles.

“Sherlock…why are you trying to convince me?”

He paused, unable to come up with a precise answer.

“Sherlock, did I tell you I love you?”

“Yes,” he answered quietly.

“And that it’s always been true?”

“Well…yes.”

Molly shrugged. “Well I meant it,” she said with a little laugh. “I really did. I’ve loved you as long as I can remember knowing you. Even back when you had really tried to convince yourself of all those silly little rules about emotion. More now of course, but you’re still the same man, just a little older and wiser. I swear that as long as I’ve known the man named Sherlock Holmes, I’ve loved him.”

Sherlock was near speechless. Not that that should shock him. Molly was awfully good at doing that. Which of course was part of the reason he was doing this in the first place.

“Well then, Molly, in that case,” he began, now smiling along with her as he realized that he might not have had as much to worry about as he thought. “As strange and possibly abrupt as this may seem…”

He shifted off the couch and down to the floor on one knee as he went on softly.

“There’s something I need to ask you…”


	22. We Can't Giggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt- tipsy/laughing kiss

Sherlock very nearly went right through the door and onto the street in front of the pub as Molly followed after him, barely containing her laughter at his stumbling.

He put fingers to his lips in mock seriousness. “We can’t giggle, Molly.”

“Oh really?” Molly questioned, a laugh still sputtering out. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be anything but graceful, so forgive me if a tipsy consulting detective is a bit amusing!”

“Tipsy? Pff!” Sherlock leaned on the stone wall outside the pub. “You’re the only one who’s tipsy!”

“And you had less than me,” she added with a little poke at his chest.

“Course I had less,” Sherlock countered, trying not to admit to himself that he was feeling lightheaded. “I was the one solving- observing! Someone had to keep the bartender talking.”

“Good thing you got what you needed because one more round and I’d have had to drag you out!” Molly leaned on the wall herself as she succumbed to laughter again. She stopped short a moment later though. “Wait...what did you find out anyway?”

Sherlock tipped his head in brief thought. “Do you know, at the moment...I can’t recall.”

That absolutely did it. The both of them completely lost it.

“It’s all up here!” Sherlock wheezed out amidst his hysterics while pointing to his brain. This only made Molly further dissolve in giggles.

There was something about Molly Hooper’s laugh. Something about seeing her lose control like this; red in the face and short of breath and tears springing to her eyes. Endearing didn’t even scratch the surface. Sherlock suddenly realized he felt warm all over, and it might not just be the alcohol and summer evening weather.

A few other people exited the pub, causing them to instinctively walk a couple paces further from the door in order to hide their admittedly childish behavior.

“Shh,” Sherlock attempted again, which only made her snort and double over.

She grabbed hold of his arm, steadying herself as best she could before straightening up. When she did, Sherlock realized that they were now only inches from each other.

“I c- I can’t s-stop!” Molly sputtered. “S-say something...serious!”

Sherlock could barely catch his breath as well, so he couldn’t very well come up with anything terribly serious to say at that moment. Instead, he simply leaned forward, colliding his open and gleeful mouth with hers.

The contact was brief, Molly pulling away a second later with a little smack. Both their expressions stilled for a moment, staring wide eyed at each other in something like question. But very quickly, Sherlock saw Molly’s lips twitch upward again. They both let out another short laugh.

“D-did you just…” Molly questioned, pointing at him and looking a bit amused in addition to shocked.

Sherlock nodded and wagged his head humorously. “That was me!”

Molly snorted again. “But why did you-”

“Dunno, I just leaned and-” Sherlock kissed her again.

“Just like that and-” Molly leaned in and kissed him back.

“Bit unexpected!” Sherlock said with another chuckle.

And somehow, as they continued babbling and laughing, the undeniable magnetism kept drawing them back in. The pattern went on for quite a while. Laughter, a few practically incoherent words, a kiss...more words, another kiss...more laughter, more kissing...and more, and more...

* * *

 

The next day at Bart’s, Sherlock strolled into the morgue with a spring in his step looking like a brand new man.

Greg grinned at the smiley detective. “I take it the case went well last night?”

“Oh it did,” Sherlock answered with a sideways glance at Molly. “Didn’t it, Molly?”

Molly blushed visible as she slipped some gloves on. “Absolutely...it was really good fun.”

“Fun?” Greg questioned, wondering if they remembered they were searching for a serial killer. “Really?”

“Mmhm,” Molly confirmed, exchanging a conspicuously flirtatious gaze with Sherlock. “I haven’t laughed that much in years.”


	23. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt- Hungry kisses on every bit of newly visible skin as clothing is slowly peeled away. (T rated)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went with a slightly different tone than this prompt really suggests, but it just happened that this was the scenario that came to mind when I read this. Enjoy! ;)

Sherlock barely saw it coming. The second he’d walked into the flat, Molly collided with him at enough speed to shove him backward against the door he’d just shut.

“Molly, you’re still up- mmph!”

His words were drowned instantly as she grasped his face between her palms and lifted up on tiptoes to passionately consume his mouth. He was actually a bit dazed by the time she pulled away.

“Hi,” she breathed out, eyes roving excitedly over his face.

“Well...hello,” Sherlock answered with a little chuckle.

“You were gone so long,” she groaned through clenched teeth, running her palms firmly over his shoulders, chest, and arms as if she were trying to get every bit of what she’d been missing so desperately.

“Yes, it was an incredibly long and taxing week, and I’m relieved to be home now that the case is solved,” he said with a weary little sigh. “And I’ve also been in the air for almost eight hours, so I desperately need to wash up.”

Molly’s eyes lit up even brighter as she took his hand and dragged him, almost too hastily for him to kick his shoes off.

“Oh you’re right, you should have a nice hot shower!” She practically skipped into the bathroom, pulling him in before shutting the door and then turning on the tap.

“Darling, no need to worry about me. I’ll be fine,” Sherlock said kindly as he shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it on the door. “It’s almost one in the morning. Why don’t you get some rest and as soon as I’m-”

Sherlock’s back hit the bathroom wall as Molly pinned him with unexpected strength, fisting some hair on the back of his head to bring his mouth down to hers again. She used her lips to easily part his and kissed him deep enough to make his tired body simultaneously melt and come alive.

She pulled away again, both of them now breathing hard as she started working at his shirt buttons.

“You were gone,” she gasped, “for too long.”

He heard some little pops as a couple innocent button were sacrificed in the process of her whipping the dress shirt back and off his shoulders.

“A-apparently,” he choked out as she began covering his chest with very appreciative kisses.

He could swear she wasn’t missing one single muscle, as if she were counting them off along the way.

Well, it was Molly. So it was possible.

“Never...leave me for that long...again. I don’t care...if the case...is a twenty!” she practically growled.

The anger in her verbal chastising at his absence was somewhat muted seeing as every few words were punctuated with the warm touch of her lips. She paused a split second to throw her own dressing gown off almost angrily before returning her enthusiastic attention to his skin, moving upward and pressing kisses all along his shoulders and neck.

By that point, especially with the occasional addition of her teeth and tongue, Sherlock could barely think clearly enough to do anything besides hold onto her tightly, burying his fingers in her hair as he basked in the euphoria that only her touch and her lips could offer. Yes, he silently agreed with his wife, he had been gone too long. He’d missed her far more than he realized.

Still happily sighing into Sherlock’s neck, Molly reached over blindly to push the shower curtain aside before finally lifting her head.

“Come on, let’s get in,” she commanded breathlessly with an accompanying tug at his belt.

Sherlock chuckled low as he took her hint and continued with the rest of his undressing, though he went at a more leisurely pace while taking the opportunity to tease just a bit.

“You know, I was wondering if this would happen. I had my doubts and thought that it could be a bit of a myth, so decided to reserve my judgement. But it seems you have indeed turned the corner since my departure for the case. This is what now? Almost fourteen weeks? Mm, yes the timing would make sense. Suppose it’s true what they say then...about the second trimester.” He gave her a little wink.

Molly’s lips twisted in mild amusement, though she was also clearly still oozing impatience as she gestured aggressively toward the shower.

“Are we going to stand here and discuss my hormones or are you shutting up, getting naked, and getting in the shower with me?!”

The fact that she then discarded her sleep shirt and gave him a pointed look while stepping behind the curtain definitely ensured that his choice was to very happily follow her lead. There was quite honestly nowhere else he’d rather be.

Though, he did make a mental note to record the latest findings on his pregnancy spreadsheet in the morning.


	24. Timing Is Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for- a kiss that shouldn't have happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst ahoy! This could be a canon compliant fill in scene between s3e2 and s3e3. So that should tell you something right up front lol. ;)

“Oh, hi,” Molly chirped as she saw the familiar six foot form sweep into the morgue. “Working here today?”

“Just stopping by,” Sherlock replied, immediately peering at the body which was laid out on the exam table. “Anything interesting?”

“Routine, actually. Brain aneurism is what it seems like. But he was young, just under forty, so they’ve got to be sure.” Molly paused while arranging some tools, eyeing him in question. “John and Mary-”

“Left yesterday. They won’t be back for another two weeks. Seems awfully long to me,” he huffed. “Though apparently it’s a somewhat standard amount of time for a sex holiday.”

Molly bit back some laughter. “Yes, um, I’d say it’s pretty standard.”

After a moment of silence, he spoke again, though there was a hint of hesitation. “Likely planning your own right about now, I should think.”

Molly looked up for a moment and managed a smile and a nod. “Right, yeah, we are. Another few months now. But it’ll come up fast, especially with all the work involved in planning the wedding. I’m sure it’ll be here and gone before I know it!” Her laugh that followed sounded unnatural, even to her.

She glanced at the empty box of gloves on her tray then, realizing it was empty and that she’d need another one.

“Be right back,” she muttered quickly and shuffled into the supply closet.

The moment she got in she realized the step stool was missing, which meant she couldn’t possibly reach the shelf with the gloves. She’d tried climbing once...that hadn’t ended well. Molly cursed under her breath, feeling suddenly a little on edge anyway, even without this added annoyance.

“Something I can do?” Sherlock asked, leaning in the doorway.

She smiled appreciatively, gesturing to the higher shelf. “Just the um, the glove boxes. They’re all so high and-”

“Not a problem.” Sherlock stepped into the closet and reached up to grab one of the boxes effortlessly and then handed it to her.

“Thanks,” Molly replied with a little smile.

In that moment, Molly felt something instantly shift.

They stood there in that small space, their hands connected only by a stupid box of gloves and their eyes connected by a force that felt almost unnaturally powerful. For a moment she felt like she had been transported back to that moment in the stairwell after their day of case work together. She felt her lips part ever so slightly and saw his eyes dart right to them. And just like months before, Sherlock leaned down and kissed her. Though, this was quite a bit different than the kiss in that stairwell.

Sherlock really and truly kissed her. There was nothing even remotely platonic about it. This was lips connected to lips, warm and soft. And no more than a second later, she felt his mouth open, coaxing hers to do the same.

The box of gloves hit the floor.

Molly gasped against his tongue as she anchored her hands to either side of his neck while his slipped into her hair, unstopped by her loose braid, fingers pressing insistently into her scalp. Both of them desperate to get closer, hold tighter, kiss more deeply.

She could have sworn in that moment that nothing in all her life had ever felt this good. But it was that very realization, and the accompanying tidal wave of guilt, that made her eyes fly open and made her pull quickly away from his lips.

Tears sprung to her eyes almost instantly as she clamped a hand over mouth in horror. Sherlock registered her expression, looking a bit wide eyed and shocked as well.

“Molly- Molly, I’m sorry, I-”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God…” she murmured, her voice shaking as her heart pounded almost painfully in her chest. “I- I can’t believe I just- how could I? How could I do that? Oh God, Tom!”

“No no,” Sherlock said, shaking his head as he quickly and desperately tried to sooth her. “No, it was me. It was all me, and I’m truly...truly sorry. This was not you, it was-”

“No, but it was me!” she all but yelled. “That was my lips and my tongue and my hands too! It wasn’t just you! Oh God!” She buried her face in her palms with a soft groan.

“Stop punishing yourself, this wasn’t your fault! Please, please forgive me, Molly,” he begged softly, taking gentle hold of her wrists to pry her hands from her face. “It was me who kissed you and I caught you off guard so you naturally responded. But of course for you it didn’t mean-”

He stopped short, seemingly unable to finish the thought, and she couldn’t help gazing awestruck into his eyes which looked possibly sadder than she’d ever seen them look before. The sight nearly broke her into a million pieces.

In that moment she wanted to pull him into a crushing embrace and promise him that what they’d just done had meant literally everything to her, more than he could possibly comprehend! That was the only reason she was so destroyed. It wasn’t because she hated what had just happened. It was because of how desperately she loved it.

Sherlock swallowed visibly and released her wrists, clearing his throat and bending down to retrieve the box of gloves. He handed it to her and gave her a tight smile.

“I think I’ll leave you to work in peace today.”

She opened her mouth, words close to tumbling out, though she wasn’t sure what they should be. But she didn’t have the time anyway.

He leaned down to press an especially chaste and quick kiss to her forehead and then he was gone, sweeping out of the room before she had a chance to say or do anything else. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe he was right to do that, and she should be grateful to him. Grateful that he’d saved them both.

But she didn’t feel grateful, or relieved, or saved. She felt empty and lost and weighted down by one of the cruelest doses of irony that life had ever thrust upon her. She was engaged to another man...and now Sherlock Holmes had passionately kissed her.

Molly sighed, long and heavy as she shut the light off in the supply closet and trudged back toward the body. Cutting something open sounded pretty good right now.


	25. Hurts So Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for- Kisses because everything hurts right now including being loved by you but you're also the only thing that makes me feel better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post TFP, maybe by a few months.

Molly heard the door unlock as she poured herself another cuppa. As she expected, Sherlock let himself in and she couldn’t help thinking this was the icing on the cake of this day. There was the man she loved, casually strolling into her flat. An almost, “honey, I’m home” sort of moment. And yet it wasn’t. Because apparently nothing was what it should be these days.

“You’re home early,” Sherlock commented as he hung his coat. “Sorry, would have sent a text if I knew you were here. Just a bit of plumbing trouble at 221B after the new bathroom fixtures went in. Difficult to believe it’s been months since the explosion and we’re still-”

He paused as he neared where she stood in the kitchen, probably noting her demeanor and downturned expression.

“Why are you home early?” he questioned, a bit cautiously now.

“Been a rubbish day,” she replied with a sniff, and took a sip of her tea. “I had to take a few hours off to take Toby to the vet. He’s um...it seems he’s losing his sight.”

Sherlock was silent for a moment before responding softly. “I’m sorry.”

Molly shook her head. “It’s just- it’s one of about a hundred things that’s wrong, you know? Do you ever have those moments? Those moments where you wonder if there’s anything going really and truly right.”

He said nothing, but leaned against the counter, apparently ready and waiting for her to continue.

“Did you know that as of yesterday my dad’s been dead for seven years? Seven whole years of my life...he just hasn’t been here,” she stated incredulously. “That hurts more than I can put into words.”

“Molly…”

But she didn’t let him continue, almost as if she were desperate to expound on all the things that were wrong before letting him get any sort of a positive word in edgewise.

“I sat with Rosie two days ago.” She smiled genuinely for a moment. “Gosh, she’s getting so big. I can’t believe she’s over a year now.”

Her smile faded and eyes clouded over as she whispered the difficult words. “She said mummy to me.”

Even the usually made-of-steel Sherlock looked like that had sliced straight through to his heart.

Molly let out a shaky sighed. “She shouldn’t be saying that to me- to anyone, except her mum! Mary should be here for Rosie and for John and for all of us! It’s unfair, it’s so so unfair and I just hate it!” she stated in an almost childish tone.

Wordlessly, Sherlock reached for her, clearly moving in to put an arm around her or perhaps even hug her, but she stiffened a bit and took a step back.

“Even this,” Molly added with another sniff as she gestured between Sherlock and herself. “Even this hurts now!”

Now he looked freshly injured and a bit confused. “Wh-what do you mean? Have I...done something?”

She set her tea down and glanced away while searching for the words. “It’s just- it’s all so confusing now! I love you, I always have, but even though I never had everything I wanted with you, at least I knew what I did have. It was always clear before! I knew what we were and what we weren’t. And then one day, you tell me you love me! And you even tell me you meant it...but then that was it!”

Sherlock looked a little sheepish now, recognition settling in with her definition of this particular category of hurting.

“It’s all just...so…” She raised her hands in question before dropping them in what looked like defeat. “It feels like we’re somewhere between friends and something more and somehow that’s even harder than just being your friend, and I just can’t-”

“Molly, stop,” he finally instructed, kind but firm.

He reached out and gingerly took her hand, inching his way closer to her, and this time Molly couldn’t find it in her to push him off or move away. He got close enough to slip an arm around her shoulder and bring her in against his chest, warm and steady.

Molly felt a bit of an emotional release just from that sensation, a couple tears slipping free from her eyes as she felt him rest his cheek atop her head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For all of it. For how you’re feeling and everything that’s unfair. But most of all, I’m sorry for playing any part.”

She couldn’t speak then, knowing her voice would be a mess, but simply nodded her head against his chest, trying to convey her acceptance.

“Because I do...I do love you,” he murmured into her hair. And then he pressed his lips to the same spot.

Molly shut her eyes at the contact of his lips, even against her hair. Then she felt his fingers lift underneath her chin just slightly, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Y-you don’t...have to...” she protested weakly.

“I know,” he answered very simply, and then brushed his lips against her temple.

Between the tears and the feeling of his lips on her face, she began to feel lightheaded and cast off the will to dissuade him from whatever he was moved to do. Because this certainly didn’t hurt. This felt truly good. In fact, it made anything painful shrink blissfully into the deep recesses of her brain, seeming so much more insignificant.

His lips began a journey, tender and slow all across her face which he cradled in his palms. He stopped to press kisses to her cheeks, nose, brow, chin, and eyelids. Eventually he paused, nudging her nose with his, which made her now heavy eyes open enough to look at him.

“Of all the things that hurts, and the things that aren’t fair,” he said, speaking slowly and carefully. “We should not be one of them. Not anymore.”

Molly gave him a little pout of emotion filled appreciation. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed with a single nod.

And then he finally kissed her lips.

She mused that her lips molded to his almost too easily, as if the two of them were puzzle pieces which needed only the slightest touch in order to lock perfectly and securely together. Her arms slid around his middle, holding herself deliciously snug against him as their mouths continued moving in a slow and steady rhythm. The heat of their kiss was naturally building, warming her all over, but she could tell that Sherlock was in no rush to fan the flame. And she was pretty sure she knew the reason.

This wasn’t a kiss of seduction, but simply one of deep and enduring love. The kind of love that moves you to put another’s feelings ahead of your own, to care for their needs, and to simply be there when nothing can be fixed. That was the message, sent silently from his lips to hers.

And for Molly, as silent as it was, it was also loud and clear.


	26. What Tomorrow May Bring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for- 'we might die tomorrow' kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medieval AU loosely based on TFP, which I now actually wish was in the form of a film because man I'd watch this so hard lol!

Sherlock took brisk strides along the stone corridor, the glow of the camp fires in the far away fields catching his eyes through the open windows. There wasn’t much time left. In several hours it would be dawn, and then the attack would no doubt begin. There was little chance to avoid it now. Surely the desperate letter he’d sent had fallen on deaf ears, since there had been no word or response yet.

He knew he should find some hours for sleep, but the idea was almost impossible to imagine. How could he even shut his eyes with such chaos around him?

Just then, he slowed, something else catching his eye. There was Molly, sitting on the ledge of one of the windows, gazing out toward the angry looking field filled with an encamped army. She jumped and turned when hearing his steps.

“Your highness,” Molly murmured, gathering her skirt and getting up to offer a small bow.

He waved away the formality and gestured back to the ledge as he walked over to join her.

“Why are you not in the inner rooms of the castle?” Sherlock questioned. “These outer walls and corridors are not so secure.”

Molly shrugged. “I just wanted to see it, to understand what might be coming.”

Sherlock studied her perfect profile, aglow from the firelight outside, and for a moment, despite the reality, everything seemed so peaceful.

She spoke again after a pause. “Will we- the castle...survive the attack?”

Sherlock was the one to pause now. It was difficult for him to find the right answer, the right words for such a question. Especially for her.

How was it that his estranged and mad sister had managed to find out the little known truth? How, along with the the brilliance of her impending attack on his family’s kingdom, had she been cunning enough to send him that one additional message? That little message that made his heart stop like no other threat had.

Eurus promised to make sure that Molly would meet her end on the day of the attack, and that she would soon be in one of the very same little wooden coffins that her late father used to painstakingly craft before his own death. And she even specified that Sherlock would be forced to stand by and helplessly watch.

A shiver ran through him at the memory of the words, and he hoped Molly didn’t notice.

Somehow, Eurus had looked past the obvious. All the fine ladies at court who fawned over him, and she had managed to take note of Molly, the kind and unassuming maid servant to Sir John’s wife Lady Mary. Even that position of service had been offered out of pure generosity, after prompting from Sherlock. Molly had little else to recommend her, seeing as her father had died leaving her almost penniless. But in many ways, she was cut from the same cloth as Sherlock, and he couldn’t ignore the bond that they shared. She was the one woman who truly mattered to him, and now he wasn’t the only one who knew it.

“The castle will prevail,” Sherlock finally answered softly, managing a small smile.

She smiled back at him with a knowing, albeit sad, look in her eyes. “Liar,” she whispered.

He released a sigh and glanced back out the window, impressed at her perception but wishing she could be spared the harsh truth. “Forgive me, for not preventing this.”

Molly reached out and placed her hand over his on the ledge. “Your highness, you take too much on yourself. It was your family that sent your sister away all those years ago, not you. And her madness is certainly not your doing! None of this is your fault,” she said firmly.

He gazed back at her again, thinking that she had no idea how wrong she was. Her fate would be his doing. His love for her had sealed her death sentence. And if nothing else was his fault, that alone was enough to make him dearly wish for the mercy of his own death by this time tomorrow. He could not imagine living with that sort of guilt, pain, and loss.

Sherlock turned his hand over so he could thread his fingers with hers, which made her cheeks glow even brighter than the color offered by the fires.

“I would give my life to save yours...did you know that?” he whispered.

Her stunned silence was answer enough.

“If I could change nothing else,” he went on, “I would wish that you walk away tomorrow unharmed, able to live the rest of your days to the full, and to be happy. You deserve that much, even if I cannot give that to you. But I would- I would give that you...if I were able.” He released an unsteady breath, feeling a small measure of relief just from speaking the words.

She gripped his hand a little tighter, giving support without the need for him to request it, which was so characteristic of her.

“You and I may not get what we want or deserve. At least, not after tonight.” She paused, then added, “but...we are here now.”

Sherlock’s eyes snapped to hers and he saw the shift in them. A minute before there had been shock and awe, but now there was warmth and desire. Molly had made herself more than clear, and given the circumstances, he wasn’t about to waste time making her repeat herself.

His arm shot out and slid around her waist, tugging her over to him on the window’s ledge and instantly crashing his lips into hers.

The second he did it, even before their mouths met, he cursed himself for never having done it before. God, how had he resisted all this time? This was heaven if ever such a place existed. Warm, soft, and inviting. Her fingers buried in his hair and fisted the fabric of his shirt while his pressed tightly around her back into the linen fabric which he quickly began to wish was nonexistent. And with every satisfying taste of her lips and tongue, he found that pleasant hungry for more only growing stronger.

And how alive he felt! Alive, powerful...invincible; like he and Molly could do absolutely anything. He had been so sure of death only minutes before, but as he listened to the desperate respiration in and out of their noses, he found himself suddenly unwilling to believe that the lungs they possessed could ever be made to stop drawing air. It was as if she’d literally breathed life into him, and it was more powerful than any weapon or strategy his mind could create.

“I love you,” he murmured breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes for a moment. “I may not have said it or always shown it before this, but that doesn’t make it any less true. I love you,” he repeated, and then impatiently reached for her lips again, but she didn’t allow him access till she could utter her own joyful response.

“I love you. I always have! Always!”

Then Molly slanted her mouth against his, consuming his waiting lips again and returning to the desperate fire that they’d already started. A fire which was very rapidly spreading.

But the sound of footsteps along the stone made Molly quickly pull away again, sliding back over to the other side of the ledge.

“Sherlock,” John announced as he rounded the corner, briefly and very obviously glancing between his friend and his wife’s maid servant before continuing. “Your highness, you have received an urgent letter...from your sister.”

The words made Sherlock jump from his seat to take the paper from John. He unfolded it and his eyes sweep through the words. As he did, a slow smile began to grace his lips.

“We are saved,” he whispered, lifting his head to look at John and Molly who’d come to stand beside him. “The army is being sent away, and Eurus wishes to meet...in peace.”

John’s jaw fell slack but then he grinned, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “My God, I can hardly believe it! But...how?”

The corner of Sherlock’s lips lifted in a smile as he thought back to the letter he’d penned to his sister the day before, and then he glanced at Molly and took her hand as he gave the simple answer to his trusted friend.

“Love.”

 


	27. A Lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt- Kisses because I don’t want you to go and maybe I can convince you to stay just a few minutes longer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victorian domestic fluff ahead! ;)

It was a thrilling day.

Molly was excited to have been invited to attend a very exclusive lecture at Bart’s, which she and Sherlock hoped was only the beginning to getting her foot in the door. And Sherlock had just that morning received a telegram from Inspector Lestrade, informing him of the need to reopen a cold case. That was fortunate of course, seeing as the last case he’d solved was over a fortnight ago, just before their wedding.

She was so incredibly grateful that this was their life and their reality now, she really was. Their work, responsibility, and all the excitement that went along with it...it was all she had ever wanted and more.

Except…

Molly chewed her lip lightly as she leaned against her dresser and tried her best to finish placing some pins in her hair. Instead though, she gazed past her reflection and watched as her husband pulled the braces up over his lovely shoulders and then straightened his shirt and collar a bit. That was when he caught her eye in the reflection as well, and they held each other captive for a couple moments.

Sherlock cleared his throat then and they both smiled briefly as Molly tore her eyes away and continued fixing her hair.

Ten minutes later they milled about the kitchen, fixing themselves some tea. He handed her a cup, sliding the milk and lemon slices over to her. Molly’s fingers brushed against his as she took the little plate and she had to twist her lips to keep from smiling too widely at the memory from two weeks before. That first morning they’d awoken in their honeymoon suite and had a lovely tray of tea sent up...but then they’d taken barely a sip before forgetting the tray entirely and collapsing back into the already disheveled bed.

“Containing the spread of disease?”

Sherlock’s voice made her look up with raised brow.

“Pardon? Oh yes! Yes, that is the lecture,” she confirmed.

“I shall look forward to hearing all the details this evening,” Sherlock commented as he stirred the sugar into his tea.

“Yes of course, I cannot wait to share all that I learn,” Molly agreed enthusiastically. “And I’m sure you’re in eager anticipation of the case.”

“Eager, yes,” he replied instantly.

“Good!” Molly said with a bright smile.

She really couldn’t wait for that evening. The flat would be darkened and they would sit around the fireplace, perhaps sipping another cup of tea as Molly related the fascinating parts of the lecture and Sherlock described how the casework went. They’d be wrapped comfortably in their dressing gowns and wrapped up in each other and-

Molly shook her head and took a hearty gulp of the hot liquid in her cup. This sort of daydreaming would not do.

Twenty minutes later and the Holmes were dutifully putting on their coats, hats, and gloves by the door.

“We shall need separate cabs,” Sherlock commented as they walked down the stairs to the bottom landing. “Not going in the same direction.”

“Oh,” Molly replied, disappointment briefly visibly in her expression. “Yes, of course.”

He reached for the handle…

“Wait! Your necktie!” Molly tugged at his shoulder to turn him round and began fiddling with the tie which was absolutely not in need of straightening.

Their eyes locked instantly, and as she tried to act like she was adjusting his tie, she realized that what she was unconsciously doing was to pull downward on the material, inching her husband’s face closer and closer to her own. She was pretty sure she heard him growl out a soft, “blast” just before she reached his lips.

Molly let out a deep sigh of relief and satisfaction as they sunk into a kiss, the kind which had now become comfortable and familiar as well as spine tinglingly delicious.

Sherlock emitted a little groan as he pulled back. “You’ve done it now, Mrs. Holmes.”

She smiled innocently. “Have I?”

“I had been using quite a bit of mental energy this morning to avoid thoughts of kissing you. You have made a ruin of all my efforts,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Sorry, darling,” she whispered with a little giggle while leaning in to trail kisses along his jaw.

“You are...far from sorry,” he correctly deduced, shutting his eyes at the feeling of his wife’s lips.

“I can’t help it,” she said between feathery kisses on his face. “I’ve grown so accustomed to spending our days and nights together, and mostly in each other's arms, that it’s a bit more difficult than I anticipated to get all properly dressed to be out and about and away from you till this evening.”

Sherlock made a thoughtful little expression. “It is hateful how very much clothing we’re currently wearing, isn’t it?”

Molly laughed again. “It is indeed! How I long for my nightdress and dressing gown…” she dropped her voice while lazily running her thumb along his bottom lip. “...and nothing.”

“Mm,” he rumbled in reply, “nothing is my personal favorite.”

The subject matter making her naturally itch for more, Molly leaned into him again, tasting his mouth with slow and passionate appreciation, and causing her husband to pull her into an especially tight embrace which quickly began to make them forget that lectures and cases and the entire rest of the world even existed…

“Oh for heaven’s sake!”

Their heads whipped around to see Mrs. Hudson coming out of her flat.

“The two of you have plenty of time for all that,” their beloved landlady said with a laugh and a wink at them as she scooted past and out the front door. “Try getting out in the sunshine for a change today!”

Molly smiled shyly at her as she left and then glanced back up at Sherlock. “Suppose she’s right.”

“She is, I admit,” Sherlock replied, drawing what looked like a deep breath of courage before holding the door for his wife and gesturing for her to go ahead. “Plenty of time for all that later!”

“Yes, plenty,” Molly agreed, the reminder warming her from the inside out. “We’ve got a lifetime.” 

 


	28. Softy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary stops by Baker St to see some kittens Sherlock is caring for as part of a missing cat case. Molly stops by too, and Mary is able to make some interesting observations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to fill a prompt for @fangirlhani and @ultimate-fandom-freak who both tagged me in a post on tumblr with this idea. :)

Mary rubbed her belly as her cab neared Baker St, giving her daughter a little nudge to hopefully shift that little foot away from her ribs. Not that there was a whole lot of alternatives at the moment, with only a few more weeks to go.

She finally arrived and made her way up the steps to 221B, huffing a bit along the way. And as she neared the door she had to stifle a laugh.

“No no, you have to stay in the box- no, in the box! There’s really nothing fascinating in my flat, I give you my word...well that’s not true I suppose.”

“Knock knock,” Mary sang out as she let herself in. “Well you certainly seem to have your hands full!”

There was Sherlock Holmes, the brilliant consulting detective, sitting on the floor of his flat...with a box full of kittens.

“If this is what it’s like to have children, you and John have my deepest sympathies,” he stated. “They absolutely never stop! They’re either trying to hide somewhere and end up getting stuck, or they’re climbing my furniture or leg with their tiny little razor claws, or they’re just mewing till my ears bleed.”

Mary listened to his ranting while carefully lowering herself to the floor to get a better look. Two black and white, one grey, and one orange kitten bumbled around the small cardboard box that Sherlock had set up with a blanket. They were the most adorable little things she’d ever seen!

“Ooh look at you, little lovey,” she cooed while lifting one of the black and white ones. “Oh gosh, I wish John wasn’t allergic!”

“Yes well the little girl down the street feels the same about her father,” Sherlock stated with a huff. “How is it that I’m now taking a missing mummy cat case from an eight year old which also turns into a babysitting job?”

“Because you couldn’t possibly say no to these fluffy faces!” Mary said with a laugh, holding the kitten out to him.

Sherlock sighed, but there was a little smile visible on his lips as he took the kitten in his hands and brought it in against his chest. The tiny kitten shoved its head against his shirt and made him wince while clinging to him with desperate little claws.

Mary was about to take out her mobile and snap a picture, but then something even better happened.

“Hi, Mary! Didn’t know you’d be here too.”

They both turned to see Molly standing in the doorway, grinning at the sight before her as she unwound the scarf from her neck and set her bag down.

“Yeah, I’m just stopping by to see them. Can’t stay for too long though,” Mary explained, giving her belly a little rub. “I’m meeting John for a OB visit in a half hour.”

Molly stopped short as she hung up her coat, obviously captivated while watching the scene on the floor. Mary couldn’t help but smirk happily to herself as she observed the soft look that had developed in Molly’s eyes. It was a welcomed change.

Things had been understandably frosty for a while between Molly and Sherlock. Ever since Sherlock’s bout with drugs, Molly’s broken engagement, and Sherlock killing a man...well, things had reached a bit of a boiling point. But it seemed that the ice that had developed between the two had slowly begun to crack and melt away of late. Mary was relieved, because to her it seemed a bit of a silly charade. She easily saw past the ice...and saw that ever burning fire.

Molly approached slowly, biting her lower lip and smiling a little. “Didn’t know you had such a soft spot,” she commented.

Sherlock still had the fuzzy kitten clutched securely against his chest and was gently scratching under its chin and behind its ears. His gaze shifted in mild embarrassment.

“Never said I did,” he replied in a far from convincing tone.

“Mm, the purring kitten tells a slightly different story,” Molly muttered, giving him a sideways glance as she strolled into the kitchen to open a couple cans of wet food and add some milk to loosen it.

“Nice of Molly to come help,” Mary commented with a nudge to Sherlock’s arm.

“Yes, well, she is helpful in this case. Cats are more...her area.”

Mary leaned in and whispered, “And whose area is she?”

Sherlock raised a brow in warning just before Molly began setting a couple small bowls down near the edge of the kitchen. The chorus of mewing began and Sherlock helped the rest of them out of the box so they could scurry over to begin greedily devouring their dinner.

“Oh look at them eating!” Mary sighed wistfully as she watched them clumsily gobble up their food. “I’d take them all home with me if I could.”

“It’s ok if you need to go,” Molly said to Sherlock as she crouched down to sit with them while they ate. “I’ll be fine here till you get back.”

Sherlock heard his mobile and took it out before he could answer, reading the screen for a moment.

“Ah. Seems one of my homeless network did find the mother a few blocks away. Or at least, a cat that looks like the picture of her. He’s bringing her by the flat in about twenty minutes. Might not be much of a case to solve after all,” he said, shoving his phone back in his pocket as he stood from the floor.

“Well I should really be off,” Mary announced and extended her hand for Sherlock to help her up as well. She was now especially determined to make herself scarce.

Molly stood along with them. “Oh right, well you probably don’t need me then, do you? I mean, if you’re not going out searching for the cat- Ooh!”

The grey kitten had abandoned the food bowl and started scaling the side of Molly’s trousers, anchoring itself with tiny claws.

“Oh, allow me,” Sherlock offered, leaning down to unhook the tiny lethal weapons from her clothing and instead handing the kitten to her.

Molly laughed and nuzzled the kitten’s nose with hers. “Am I fun to climb, hm? Do you love me now because I gave you yummy food?”

Another kitten headed for her leg and Mary smiled as Sherlock picked that one up before any damage could be done.

“No obligation of course,” he said after straightening up with the kitten snuggled against him, “but they do seem to like you so...you could certainly stay- that is, if you’d like.”

“Oh,” Molly chirped, her face lighting up visibly. “Well yeah, I suppose I could. I know they’ve eaten but I mean, if you haven’t maybe we could...get takeaway?”

Sherlock pursed his lips briefly in thought. “Chinese?”

“Chinese,” Molly agreed instantly with a little smile.

“I wish I could join you,” Mary bold faced lied. “But hey, let me know how things work out with the cat, ok?”

“I’ll text you,” Molly assured her. “And let us know how the check up goes!”

“Of course!” Mary agreed, hurrying her way through the door so that none of the tiny kittens would have time to try and follow. “Talk to you both later!”

Mary left the flat hearing Sherlock muttering about finding the takeaway menu and she grinned while descending the stairs. She gave her daughter a pat and spoke in hushed tones as she made her way outside.

“That, my darling little girl, were your future godparents. Did you know that? They’re lovely, aren’t they? A bit of a mess sometimes, I know...but only in the best sort of way. And besides, you’re mummy is hardly one to judge!” she said with a laugh while raising her arm to hail a passing cab.

As the cab came to a stop, she looked down at her belly and added, “I wonder how much longer it’ll take them to admit they’re hopelessly in love!”


	29. Surprisingly Simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly attend a baseball game in Boston MA after a case is solved. They experience one of the traditions of sports games in the USA and it turns out to be a quite a highlight of the trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for ArtbyLexie who gave me a little prompt, which was simply "Kiss Cam." I'll leave you to your deductions lol! ;)

“I’m confused,” Sherlock said to Molly, his voice raised a bit over the noise level around them. “I fail to see how this is an acceptable way to say thank you for my finding out who was embezzling in my client’s business!”

“I think it’s absolutely brilliant that he gave us these tickets!” she responded while applauding the game along with the rest of the fans as she sat decked out in her Red Sox hat and hoodie. “I mean, how often will we get the chance to do this? Be here in Boston at a baseball game!”

Sherlock shrugged. “I still prefer _actual_ England to _New_ England, thank you very much.”

“Stop complaining,” Molly chided with a laugh. “Besides, he did actually pay you as well. This was just an added bonus! Oh gosh, not to mention the incredible food he recommended!”

Sherlock did have to admit the food was nothing to sniff at. Giacomo’s was incredible Italian dining; as good or maybe even better than Angelo’s, though that seemed disloyal to say aloud. And the cannoli at Mike’s Pastry definitely ended up being worth the twenty minute wait in line. Perhaps they could stop by there again before flying home…

Molly nudged him, pointing toward the baseball field to playfully indicate that he should pay attention.

He also had to admit that the company on this case hadn’t been half bad. In fact, it was just about as wonderful as he could possibly imagine.

There was something rather freeing about being so far from home with Molly; far from anything that had happened recently. It was like they were able to step out of real life for a moment and into a world where everything that was difficult and confusing simply didn’t exist. It was a bit of a blessing in disguise that John hadn’t felt he should leave Rosie for that long or go that far away. This time with Molly had been...perhaps a bit therapeutic. Things hadn’t felt quite this light and comfortable since long before the events surrounding his poor troubled sister.

Events which he admittedly should have spent a little more time talking through with her.

Molly had been, if anything, too kind. He suspected she was being gentle with him because of the painful events which had resurfaced from his past. Perhaps it was cowardly, but he took the out she offered, choosing not to disagree when she excused his words during that phone call and the perceived impending danger. They’d both carried on as if the whole matter had been settled...even if he knew it wasn’t, not really.

Molly began swaying side to side in her seat as a song played over the loudspeakers between plays (this game was truly tedious). It was vaguely familiar to Sherlock but Molly seemed to know the words and was softly singing along.

“Kiss me, down by the broken tree house…”

Just then, Sherlock looked up and saw- _what in God’s name_?

“M-Molly,” he sputtered, nudging her and pointing up to the jumbotron. “Molly, is there a reason there’s a camera on us?!”

She gasped when she looked up and saw the same thing. “Oh my God, we’re on the Kiss Cam!” she exclaimed, laughing and turning beet red.

“The _what_ Cam?!” he questioned, though a couple seconds of deduction were all he needed to get a pretty clear grasp of the situation, and if he had any apprehension, the people clapping and cheering around them would have left no doubt. Oh dear…

Molly began laughing nervously and shaking her head, gesturing between herself and Sherlock. “N-no, we’re not- we’re just friends! Just friends!” she explained loudly amongst the cheering. “I don’t think we would ever...it’s- it’s sort of complicated!”

Sherlock sat there gaping and wide eyed, though that one word did make him pause and look over at her. _Complicated_. Did it have to be?

His eyes swept her face, red and flustered as she tried to smile but was clearly becoming more and more embarrassed by the whole situation. She chewed her pink lips nervously and was barely able to make eye contact with him as she turned to him and mouthed the word, “sorry.” But he couldn’t help but think, why should she be? If things were complicated between them, it certainly wasn’t her who had made it so. Perhaps he was the one who should be apologizing. Or maybe...maybe he should do something else entirely.

His decision made in a flash, Sherlock gently turned her head toward him while removing the baseball cap from her head, and then he pressed his lips unhesitatingly against hers. Somewhere in his head he registered the fact that the crowd had erupted in cheering and applause, but it wasn’t his main focus.

Sherlock melted against the instant warmth and comfort of her mouth and felt a new and wonderful sort of thrill when her hands came up to grasp his face and she began enthusiastically kissing him back. They were in their own little world for a few blissful moments.

They soon pulled back though, very briefly glancing up at the jumbotron again as the screen finally switched away from them, and then looked at each other again.

“Well,” Molly began, letting out a short laugh, “I guess it’s even more complicated now, isn’t it?”

Sherlock smiled, enjoying the way her eyes had brightened and knowing it had been his doing.

“Actually,” he said, affectionately brushing some hair behind her ear before placing the cap back on her head, “I believe it’s finally incredibly simple.”

 


End file.
